A Sense of Belonging
by annewed
Summary: A little AU/Post DH Marriage Law fic. Life after the war is nothing like what Hermione had pictured. Matched to Fred Weasley, they're left to start building a new life together. However, things are not always as they seem, and unknown danger lurks. FW/HG
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: I don't generally care for author's notes at the beginning, but to set the stage . . . _

_This is (yet another) marriage law fic. I personally love the idea, and exploring the variety of emotions, relationships, strains and tensions that can arise from such an outside situation being forced onto characters. I prefer chapters with some real meat to them, so mine tend to be long (though this first chapter is longer than usual). I have a fairly good idea where this is headed, but welcome feedback! _

_This is largely DH compliant, save for a little twist here or there. What can I say? I don't believe Fred died; in my universe he's alive and well. . . This story is rated M for a reason - sexual content, graphic language and violence. Please do not proceed in reading if you are uncomfortable with any of these things or are under the recommended age for Mature fictions, per the rating system. Caveat Emptor!_

_Lastly, the usual disclaimer: These characters are not my own creations; they belong to JK Rowling et al. I am merely playing with them, making them fit into my stories and ramblings, rather like I did to my stuffed animals when it was time for a tea party. . . I make no profit from this endeavor, save a sense of satisfaction for knowing that in my world, my favorite characters aren't dead._

**Chapter 1**

_During the Battle for Hogwarts_

One moment there was the most bizarre sight of Percy making a joke and then a loud noise and then . . . nothingness enveloped him. A trace of pain, like a memory of an old ache, but that was it. It was peaceful, quiet, and utterly terrifying. For as long as he could remember, probably from the moment of his existence, he had been aware of his twin brother. George existed almost as a presence in his mind. Even when they were separated, there had been the comfort of knowing the other half was still there, somewhere nearby.

But no longer. There was nothing but him, existing in some way, entirely alone for the first time in his life. If this was life. He felt very uncertain that this was something that could be called life. He looked around him, and there was vastness and emptiness. Nothing distinct, but nevertheless the impression of size overwhelmed him. There was nothing physical, and yet he felt eerily as if he could touch, should he want to. He was not sure if he was standing or not, and his fear grew.

Faintly he heard a sound, a voice. Calling his name? Too indistinct to be certain. He looked around again, hoping to find some explanation somehow. And there, just over the horizon (was it a horizon?) there was a speck, a something moving towards him. Again he thought he heard a sound, but it was like the pain; a mere hint of sensation. He waited, watching the speck grow closer, forming into a figure, a person? Time had no meaning any longer, so Fred could not say whether it was an hour or a minute, or even a day, but the figure resolved into a man that seemed awfully familiar, though Fred knew he did not know him.

"Fred, is it? Ah. Well, this is somewhat unexpected. I had thought . . . but, well, it explains the distance. Good to meet you, Fred. I am your uncle, Fabian Prewett." It was absurd, as Fabian Prewett was well and long dead, but then, Fred was coming to realize that he too must be dead, if he couldn't feel George any longer. And indeed, this was the young wizard that waved out to them from his mother's pictures.

"So . . . this is the great beyond, is it? You're here to meet me, then? Please tell me that there are some gorgeous birds about somewhere." Fred tried to make a joke, tried to smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Yes, there are a surprising number actually. Man after my own heart, you are. But then, I understand you are my namesake, to a degree anyhow. Molly never did quite recover from Gid and I passing on, did she? Poor girl. But she's been happy enough with you lot, and you and your twin certainly did remind her of us often enough."

"Right. Er, not to be rude or anything, but where am I? What happens next? How long will it be before George arrives?"

"Curiosity is a good trait, but sometimes unfulfilling you'll find, old chap. As for where you are, you are here. That is the only way to explain it. Time has no meaning or hold here, so there is no way of knowing when he'll arrive. The only answer is when he does. But there is a question that I'm surprised you haven't asked, Fred. And really, it's the pertinent question." Fabian looked serious for a moment, and so much like his mother it was surprising. Again, the sound, though it was more distinctly like a voice, calling for him. It disturbed him some.

"Am I dead?" Fred held his breath, though there was no need to breathe and he wasn't aware of having breathed since he found himself here.

"That's the crux of it isn't it? I hadn't been expecting to see you. It's terribly difficult to explain, you understand, because time and physicality are so non-existent. But you are not yet dead. You are very close, mind. You wouldn't be here otherwise, but there is as yet, a spark of life left in the physical plane, holding you there. Maybe you have a choice, I'm not sure how it works."

"That doesn't make any sense. Aren't you just dead or alive? How can there be an in-between?"

"Life's a funny thing, Fred. It isn't what you think. You still think in terms of limits, and what you'll learn is that there are no limits to life, nor love, nor any good thing. Not really. The only limits are the physical, and even that is largely in your own head. Tell me, what d'you feel now?"

Fred cocked his head, frowning, trying to follow his uncle's cryptic words. Before there had been only a trace of sensation, of pain. Now there was a tug, a stronger feeling, almost a pull, and a sharpness that he could feel. His eyes widened a bit when he heard a louder sound, much like George's voice. He could not make out the words, but they were frantic.

"I feel . . . pain. It's not bad, but it's stronger. A pull . . . I can hear George."

Fabian grinned in satisfaction. "There you are then. I think your choice has been made. Remember, Fred, live well. And tell Molly not to fret so. There are changes coming Fred. It won't be easy, but good things rarely are." Fabian was becoming more and more indistinct and his voice grew softer and softer.

There was a moment of confusion, where Fred seemed to hover between the place he had just been and where he had come from to get there, and then a feeling of shattering and he drew a deep breath, only to choke. And there was pain. Pain beyond words, pain beyond imagining, pain, blessed pain and he could feel it sweep over him, claw at him, try to carry him away and he was dying. And there was George, and Fred realized he had always been there. It was Fred who had gone, and he could feel George's utter terror and they looked at each other and they knew how close they had come to total, permanent separation.

_**HPHPHPHPHP**_

_June 30th_

"Ron, stop it!" Hermione huffed, and once again pushed at Ron's shoulder, forcing some distance between the pair.

"Hermione!" Ron whined.

"Ron, I am just not in the mood to snog right now, all right? I'm trying to make plans. I have to get to Australia. You could help me, you know." Hermione glared at Ron, who was looking angry.

"Hermione, I know you want to get to your parents, but these things take time to arrange. Sitting here pouring over a map of Australia isn't going to make it move any faster. I was just trying to take your mind off things." Ron crossed his arms belligerently.

Hermione sighed. "I appreciate it, Ron, I do. But it's like snogging is all you ever want to do. Why don't we try just spending some time together for a change?" Hermione looked hopefully at her boyfriend, who gave a shrug.

"What d'you want to do then?"

"I don't know, Ron, why don't you come up with something for once? I feel like it always has to be my idea." The frustration was evident in Hermione's voice.

"You're the one who always has a plan for everything, aren't you?" Ron's voice was getting heated.

"I'm just saying that I would rather enjoy a surprise or for you to come up with an idea for us to spend time together that doesn't involve trying to find a private place for snogging." Hermione's voice was biting.

"Fine. I didn't realize that kissing me was so disgusting to you, as you are the one who started it all by kissing me. I don't have time anyway. I promised I'd help George at the flat. Fred's coming home soon, and there are still some repairs." Ron turned and stalked away, and Hermione felt tears prickling her eyes.

She blinked them away as she turned back to studying her map of Australia.

**_HPHPHPHPHP_**

_July 17__th_

Hermione felt tired. Exhausted really. A week ago, Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Interim Minister of Magic, had met with her and expressed to her the foolishness of her fervor to travel to Australia. Hermione had wanted to go and reverse the memory charms she had placed on her parents to make them forget her, but Kingsley had gently pointed out to her that neither the Death Eaters, nor their sympathizers and followers, were all in prison and they could not guarantee safety for her parents in England. The Aurors were stretched too thin, things still in shambles in many areas of the Ministry. Slowly, society was rebuilding itself, but it was a gradual process and one which would take some time.

Kingsley had also pointed out what Hermione had refused to see before then. In sending her parents away, she kept them safe, but she had done it in a way that they forgot her, and all of their past lives. Having their lives so thoroughly altered again would be extremely difficult and they may not be able to readjust. If nothing else, their home was destroyed, their practice had been closed for over a year now, and they would be hard pressed to explain their utter and complete disappearance from the world. There were also potential complications in removing the charms. Kingsley had asked her how certain she was the charms could be removed; and she was reminded of the memory altering charm that had affected Professor Lockhart. Hers were different, but she couldn't be certain that removing them wouldn't cause damage. In short, Kinglsey had kindly told her to leave things as they were. He was sympathetic, but made her realize that her decision had been made last year and that now she had to live with it.

In the week that followed, she had cried a great deal. She struggled with the bitter realization that Kingsley was right, and she was haunted by the choice she had made. Somehow Hermione had blithely believed that everything would simply be put right once Voldemort was defeated, and her childish fantasy had been ripped to shreds.

The work to repair the Burrow had been hard, but it was livable once again. Arthur, as he had insisted he be called, was working at the Ministry so much they rarely saw him, and Percy was sleeping in his office more nights than not. Bill and Fleur had returned to Gringott's, which was strengthening their security once again, following the trio's break-in just before the battle. Once Fred's recovery had been assured, and the Burrow was in working condition again, Charlie had returned to Romania. George and Ron and Harry worked to repair the shop and flat so that they would be ready when Fred was released from St. Mungo's. His recovery was short when compared to Muggles but long by magical standards. He had been all but dead, and it was only George's insistence that the healers look at him anyway that had saved him; there was only the barest glimmer of vital signs when they ran a perfunctory diagnostic and then hastily removed him to St. Mungo's for treatment.

Life had gained a sort of routine, though Hermione felt stifled by it. She sighed and threw aside the paper she'd been reading. The public was clamoring to know full details and Rita Skeeter had even published a scathing piece in the Prophet about the public's right to know; but Harry and everyone close to him held firm in refusing to release the details of Voldemort's rise to power, merely referring to generic 'Dark Arts practices.'

Ginny, who was reading nearby glanced up at her. "Something wrong, Hermione?"

"No, I guess not. I just haven't any idea what to do. I feel so listless. What am I doing here besides helping your mum with cleaning charms?"

"Hermione, it is permissible to take some time to relax. You were on the run for nearly a year. I would think you'd enjoy a bit of rest. Besides, you've been doing more than just cleaning. You helped clear Hogwarts, you helped repair this old dump, and you've read your seventh year books at least three times over since you've been here."

"Yes, I know. It's more than that. I haven't any idea what I'm going to do. The Ministry needs good people now, perhaps more than ever, but I can't even apply until I've qualified with my NEWTs." Hermione frowned.

"Which you can't take until June, I know. I had this conversation with Harry. But surely you have some idea of what you'd like to be doing?"

"That's the problem, Ginny. I don't know. I used to have it all planned, and it's all different now. You have things all figured out, and even have your Mum on your side, thanks to Harry."

Ginny had declared that she was done with school, NEWTs be hanged, and she was trying out for the Holyhead Harpies. Harry had quietly backed her in the ensuing battle with Molly and Ginny eventually won; not only the fight with Molly, but a place on the reserve squad. There was every reason to believe that she would be in prime place to move up to starter when MacDougal retired in a year's time.

"True. But some of it is sheer luck. I might not be going ahead if there weren't an opening."

"What about Harry then? He avoids talking to me about it; probably thinks I'll tell him he has to focus on his NEWTs." Hermione snorted a bit.

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't you though?"

"If he wants to become an Auror, then yes. But it seems pretty evident to me that he isn't sure he wants to do that, or he would have taken the job King offered him straight away. I think he just wants some time to do something for himself, without a dark lord hovering about. And good for him."

Ginny hesitated. "You should tell him that. I know he'd like your approval."

"So he has chosen then?" Hermione was unsurprised. Harry had been approached by multiple Quidditch teams for all sorts of positions, probably just for the potential revenues associated with his name.

"I think he's going to go with Puddlemere United. You know Oliver Wood is their starting keeper, and they actually need a starting seeker. Thanks to Oliver's praise, I think they want him as much as his name."

"He's really good at Quidditch. I think it's a wonderful thing for him to do something purely on talent. Of course, the amount of Quidditch talk I'll be subjected to has probably just tripled," Hermione said with a wry smile.

"Oh come on, now, it's so bad! Just think of all the matches you'll get to attend!" Ginny laughed.

Hermione smiled, but then sighed again. "I'm glad you all seem to know what you are doing, but what about me? Even Ron has something to do, at least for awhile, helping out the twins."

"What's that, Hermione? Talking about me?" Ron materialized from the kitchen, a biscuit in his hand, Harry not far behind. He flopped onto the sofa next to Hermione.

"Not exactly, no. We were talking about how everyone seems to have plans but me. I'm just feeling a bit stuck for the moment."

"I thought you were going to wait and tell everyone at once, Ron! You didn't say you'd told Hermione!" Harry exclaimed.

Hermione snapped her head round towards Harry, eyes narrowed. "Excuse me? Told Hermione what?"

"Harry!" Ron exclaimed, a bit of a panicked look on his face.

"Oh, Harry, you prat. You oughtn't to have said anything, you daft git." Ginny rolled her eyes at her boyfriend.

Hermione was now staring at Ron, arms crossed. "Just what is it that I seem to be the only person in the room unaware of, Ronald?"

"Well, it's like this, Hermy. See, you know how much I like the Chudley Cannons, right?" Ron looked at her hopefully.

"Yes, Ron, I do. You practically breathe them. And don't call me Hermy." She scowled at her boyfriend.

"Right, well, it's only that they've invited me to try out for them in October. Harry seems to think I've a good shot, because they haven't got a starting Keeper any longer and Jones-Smythe is sort of shite. I may not be good enough, but they want to see me anyhow. How bleeding brilliant would it be to play for the Cannons, eh, Hermione?"

Ron's eyes were shining. It was clear that very little in this world would be more exciting to him than playing Quidditch with his longtime favorite team. But Hermione was dismayed.

She was quiet for a moment, before forcing a tight smile and saying, "I think it's great, Ron. Clearly you are excited about it."

"You don't seem very excited though." Ron frowned at her. "You understand though. It's the Cannons, Hermione! I could play professional Quidditch for the Cannons!"

Hermione sighed. "Yes, Ron, I understand that. If that's what you want to do, I'm very pleased for you. I know how much an invitation like that must mean for you."

"What is the problem then? I would have thought my girlfriend would be happy for me! Not only is this something I never thought would happen in my wildest dreams, but it's something most witches would be delighted about!" Ron's ears were turning red, while Harry and Ginny exchanged alarmed looks across the room.

"When did I say I wasn't happy for you, Ron? I am happy for you! Didn't I just say that I understood how amazing this is for you? I had no idea that this was coming though, did I? Has it occurred to you that perhaps I want more out of my life than being a Quidditch groupie? That maybe I'd hoped to see you more than a handful of days for weeks at a time?" Hermione's voice was raised and her cheeks were flushed.

"I see how it is," Ron spat at her bitterly. "Wasn't part of your plan, then, was it? So sorry to have disrupted everything by having the greatest opportunity of my life. Didn't think my happiness would be such a burden."

"That isn't it at all, Ron! That's completely unfair, and you know it! I'm very happy for you."

"You certainly have a funny way of showing it then, don't you? Harry, come on, I think I want to go for a fly. No point in staying around here." Ron stomped away and the kitchen door slammed.

Harry looked uncomfortably at Hermione. "I'm really sorry, I thought, when you said. . . I didn't mean to start a fight."

Hermione's eyes were tearing up, but she refused to let Ron make her cry. "It's not your fault. We always fight, you know that. He'll work it off and be sorry later that he sprung it on me. I'm just feeling down right now, my fault for being testy."

Harry put an arm tentatively around her shoulders. "I'll talk sense into him, don't worry. I'd better go before he gets too worked up though." With a squeeze, he departed.

Ginny looked at Hermione's tearful face and channeled her mother. "Come on, I'll make tea." She led her friend to the kitchen and sat her down while she prepared Molly's cure-all for emotional ills.

"What's wrong then, Mione? It's not just about Quidditch, is it?"

Slowly, Hermione shook her head, while tracing the wood grain of the table with her finger. "No. It's not."

"Tell me about it."

"Things aren't going very well," Hermione admitted.

"I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific," Ginny said, pushing a cup towards her friend.

"Ron and I. Things are . . . tense."

"We've noticed," Ginny said softly.

"It's just seemed lately all we do is fight or snog. And I'm getting quite tired of snogging."

Ginny just raised her eyebrows. So Hermione continued. "Ron is. . . heavy-handed. It's not that I am uninterested, exactly." Hermione sighed. "He just pushes and pushes. And whenever we have a disagreement, he wants to kiss and make-up and he doesn't give me any space."

"I can see how that could be frustrating."

"He doesn't listen to me, Ginny. It's like he's waiting for me to plan everything out. If I leave it up to him, then we snog. We never talk, or read together or do anything as a couple unless I plan it out. And then he whines about how I won't let him do certain things. When I wouldn't take off my shirt the other night, he complained that Lavender was doing that within a week of them dating."

"He didn't!" Ginny exclaimed.

Hermione nodded miserably. "I don't know what's wrong. I used to think I was in love with him. For ages. But now . . . I'm not happy. All we do is fight. Everything I say is wrong. Maybe I'm just restless. I feel so unsettled and confused."

Hermione put her head in her hands and sighed. She needed something to do, something to capture her interest, some sort of direction. But her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the floo activating. Before them, the fireplace grate turned green, startling her, and then Kingsley Shacklebolt's head appeared in the green flames.

"Hermione? Ginny? Good. I need your help. There is the greatest foolishness happening and I'm not sure I can stop it. Tell everyone to gather there tonight at 7:00, I'll be able to break free by then. Damned fools in the Wizengamot."

"King,what on earth are you talking about? Is everything all right?"

"No. They are trying to pass a sodding Marriage Law! And because I'm the _Interim_ Minister of Magic, I have no power to overturn it. And because I've been vocal in my opposition to it, they refuse to vote on the permanency of my position until after the votes on the Marriage Law. Idiots. Hermione, I've got to go. I'll be at the Burrow tonight." His head disappeared from the flames.

Hermione felt a rush of energy that she hadn't felt since the days after the battle. "Molly! Harry! Ron! Oh, you will not believe what we just heard!" She ran through the house and outdoors, calling as loudly as she could.

**_HPHPHPHPHP_**

_July 28th_

The group around the table waiting quietly. Kingsley Shacklebolt finished reading and ran a large hand over his tired face.

"It's the best we can do, I think."

"What are the provisions?" Hermione asked, with a bit of trepidation.

"They've agreed to do away with the contractual clauses that allowed suitors to bid for witches without their say, thank Merlin. There will be a grace period for couples who wish to remove themselves from the pool. After that, all witches and wizards of age seventeen to age fifty will be placed in the pool and the matching spells cast."

"Are you sure the spell is sound?" Bill Weasley asked, some concern on his face.

"It seems to work. The Wizengamot were impressed, anyway. Percy went over it pretty thoroughly, and Professor Vector indicated the arithmancy was sound."

"Is there any out?" Minerva McGonagall asked. "What about people finishing their schooling?"

"I did what I could. Those who are in school will be in the matching pool, but there is no guarantee they will be matched immediately, you know. Those that are will receive an extension on their timeframe to be married. As for an out, yes, if abuse or impotence can be proven."

"What about contraception?" Hermione asked, with an edge in her voice.

"No, I couldn't make any headway there. Detection of wizarding contraceptives is cause for a fine as a violation of the statute." Kingsley sighed. "I'm sorry, Hermione, I did what I could do."

"What about Muggle means?"

"No, they didn't think to cover that," Kingsley admitted. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief.

"The law goes into effect August first. There will be thirty days after that to file the paperwork to state your relationships and remove yourselves from the pool. Merlin help us all."

Hermione refused to meet anyone's eyes.

_**HPHPHPHPHP**_

_August 30th - The Flat Above Weasley's Wizard Wheezes_

"Fred, are you sure about this? I know Katie Bell is still looking for someone. And Lee's got a cousin who might be interested." George had a concerned look on his face.

Angelina Johnson – soon to be Weasley - piped up from the chair she was lounging in. "Freddy, Katie's a sweet girl, I'm sure you would get along well enough."

Fred simply poured another shot of firewhiskey into the glass before him and tossed it back quickly. He had become quite practiced at this since the war; he didn't even flinch now But he met George's eyes, and saw the flitting fear in them and put the bottle away instead of pouring a third shot out as he wanted to do.

"Georgie, Angie, I appreciate it. Really I do. But I'm quite certain. I've never been interested in Katie Bell, certainly not enough to bind myself to her for life. She's a nice enough witch, but Angie, she's terribly dull. I know she's your friend and all, and she's all right for a few hours, but no thanks. I don't see any reason not to try my luck in the matching pool. S'posed to be highly compatible, you know."

Fred laughed a little wildly, and George and Angelina exchanged a glance that Fred found easy enough to read. He sighed. "Yes, I know you lot are concerned about me and I appreciate it. I really do. But you've got to stop babying me, Gred. I'm not dead, all right? I'm not going off the deep end either. I know this stupid law is screwing things up, but I'm not going to bond for bleedin' life with some bird I'm not interested in. At least with the pool there is a chance that I could be matched with someone who might actually fit me. Bit of an adventure, right?"

George perked up a bit. "Now that is an interesting way to view it, brother mine. When you put it that way, the possibilities are endless. And you know how I like possibilities."

Angelina shook her head and tossed a pillow with great accuracy at her fiancé's head. The beginnings of a great pillow war were underway when the floo activated and their brother Ron stumbled out.

"Oi, ickle Ronnie! What're you doing here? Shouldn't you be home taking advantage of Mum and Dad's visiting Auntie Muriel to be shagging the lovely Hermione?" Ron turned a glare on George that could have killed a hippogriff.

"No, not shagging Hermione. Won't be shagging Hermione. We've broken up." There was a sudden silence among the group. Fred and George looked at each other, a full conversation flying silently between them.

"Sorry to hear that little brother," Fred began.

"It's a great tragedy, that is," George continued.

"Especially right on the eve of the deadline to file," Fred offered and noted Ron's ears growing red.

"Must be pretty upset," George observed.

"Surely don't want to go into details," Fred added hastily, as Ron was glowering at them both.

"Best to forget about it for tonight," George said soothingly.

"And have some firewhiskey." Fred and George finished together. Fred summoned a glass for Ron and George poured for him. Angelina shook her head and removed herself to George's room. Fred might not mind her constant presence, but this was something just for the brothers to handle.

_**HPHPHPHPHP**_

_August 30__th__ - The Burrow_

Hermione was shaking, and pale, but her eyes were dry. Ron had just shouted the most awful things at her, calling her a cock-teasing slag and a back-stabbing bitch. She had been prepared for a scene, after the first time Ron had brought up the papers and Hermione had tried to explain her concerns about their relationship. He had exploded then too, though not quite so forcefully.

Hermione had known it was coming; Harry and Ginny had wasted no time in announcing their intentions, and they were followed shortly by George announcing his engagement to Angelina Johnson. With each announcement and each day that passed, Hermione had felt more and more trapped. It was rapidly becoming clear to her that she and Ron wanted vastly different things in life, and that their relationship was stalling.

Even now, she remembered his flushed face and the blue eyes that had once made her stomach flutter, smiling at her, as they sat in the meadow.

"What about it?" he'd said.

"What about what?" Hermione had been deliberately obtuse, dreading what he would say.

"I reckon we'll have to go get you a ring. I'm sure Fred and George will let me borrow some money," he'd said with an easy confidence that raised her ire.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Ron," she'd said, quietly.

"You don't want a ring, Hermy?" He'd seemed surprised, but didn't understand her.

"Don't call me Hermy!" she had said sharply. "I'm not talking about a ring, Ronald. I'm talking about getting married. I think we need to discuss the idea."

"What's there to discuss?" he had asked, tension beginning to creep in into voice.

"Plenty, Ron. Can you honestly tell me you think things are going well right now?" Hermione could feel the squirming in her stomach even now recalling the event, and wondered how she had appeared so calm.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about, Hermione." Ron's voice had been hard, like iron.

"I'm talking about our relationship, Ron! Don't be so stupid! I'm not sure at all that we should be getting married." Hermione had cried out.

"Oh, so now I'm stupid, am I?"

"No! Of course not. I'm just saying that we seem to want different things, Ron. We don't communicate well at all, we fight all the time. I'm not sure we should just jump into agreeing to marry." Hermione had felt desperate as his anger had visibly grown.

"So that's how it is then? Do I have to remind you that you are the one who started all of this?" He had started yelling at her, which she had never handled well.

"No, but I've certainly begun regretting it since you see fit to throw it in my face whenever I disagree with you! As if making the first move after waiting years and years for you to come around somehow means I have to lose half my brain! You aren't always right, Ron!" She had been angry then as well, shouting back at him.

"Neither are you! And what about you? You were so interested in kissing me then, and you barely come around me now! You're always pushing me away. You're always telling me what to do. You don't even want me to get on with the Cannons." They had been standing in the meadow, squaring off against each other like combatants.

"That's not true at all Ron! You came out of nowhere to tell me you might be playing professional Quidditch! That's a big change Ron, and you never even asked me about it, about how I felt about it. You didn't even bloody mention it was something you were considering! It's always about you first, and I don't want a marriage like that. It has to be a partnership, or it won't work. Why can't you see that I am trying to do what is best for both of us instead of running headfirst into a lifelong bond?" Hermione's eyes had begun filling with tears.

"So now you're back to telling me what to do all the time! I'm not a child, Hermione. I don't need you to make me study or order my life for me. I'm perfectly happy with it as it is. You are such a fucking know-it-all, Hermione. I don't know why I even want to marry such a bossy witch." He had closed the distance between them, and was towering over her.

"Ron, I'm not trying to tell you what to do! I'm trying to have a discussion about our relationship! And you won't bloody listen to me!" She'd pushed at him, trying to gain some space between them.

"Listen to you? Why would I want to listen to such a bloody coward? What are you so scared of?" With that, Ron had turned on his heel and stormed away a short distance before Hermione heard the tell-tale pop of apparition.

Hermione had cried then, through most of the night. She'd turned it over and over, while waiting up for him, but he hadn't returned that night. It had been a full week ago. He'd come home contrite and apologetic, and had tried to be sweet to her, but she was done.

Now, she sighed. Things had finally come to an impasse tonight, when Ron had cornered her and insisted that she sign the papers so they could be filed on time.

And she had refused.

And as expected, he'd exploded.

She was right, and she knew that. And she was scared too. But the one thing she'd known for the last week, since Ron flung the words at her in anger is that she was not a coward. Staying in the relationship, unhappy, to appease the wizard she loved as a friend, rather than risking the matching pool would be cowardice.

Hermione was a Gryffindor for a reason; and as she sat on the bed, alone, shaking, she raised her chin defiantly.

**_HPHPHPHPHPHP_**

_September 15th _

The family had gathered at the Burrow to await the delivery of the notices. They expected that at least one of the three unattached people in the family would be matched. There was nervous tension filling the room, as three officious owls swooped in and each dropped an official parchment before Fred, Ron and Hermione.

Hands trembling, Hermione opened the seal on the folded parchment and unfolded it to read the ornate flourishes of the Ministry notification.

And then Hermione blinked.

Surely she hadn't read this right. She was simply too tired, too tense, too upset by everything that had happened. Yes, that was it.

There was no way that what she had read was what the parchment actually contained.

There was simply no way that she could be matched with Fred Weasley. Absolutely not. The idea was a joke! Oh. Her lips silently formed that letter as her eyebrows creased and she finally looked up at the rest of the room, a hint of anger on her face, expecting that she would see Fred and George trying to maintain straight faces, trying to hide their laughter.

Instead, her eyes searched his out and she saw the same blank shock of surprise that she knew must be mirrored on her own face.

She heard the voices asking what the parchments contained, but her eyes were locked on Fred's. Unreadable thoughts flitted across his face, and she saw the parchments glow golden and felt a jolt of magic wrap around her and knew they had been bound.

**_HPHPHPHPHP_**

**_The Daily Prophet, Special Evening Edition_**

_Ministry Makes Marriage Matches! _

_(will true love conquer all as the MoM matches magical singles?)_

_"The Marriage Law has been passed and the early stages put into effect, over the protests of many in the magical community. As previously reported, the Ministry of Magic's efforts to repopulate wizarding Britain and to intermarry blood lines in an effort to restore harmony in this post-war world have been met with scathing resistance._

_Despite the efforts of notable war heroes such the Boy-Who-Defeated-He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named and his companions in the Golden Trio, the owners of the popular Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, the newly appointed Headmistress of Hogwarts and even the Interim Minister of Magic himself, the Wizengamot managed to get the law into effect, and the first round of matches has been made._

_However, the work of the wizarding elite is not wholly in vain. Changes to the initial version of the law have allowed couples with proof of standing relationships to marry, provided they can prove compatibility. Additionally, while the marriages were initially to be contracted by petitions and suitors, the opponents of the law have managed to get the Ministry to assign matches based on impartially cast match maker spells specially developed by the Department of Mystery's Unspeakables. _

_Those who are of age and deemed marriageable by the Ministry who did not take advantage of the grace period for declaring relationships have been matched and notices sent out to the new couples. Those who are matched have been bound by loose Fidelity charms during the engagement period, which may last up to six months. Matched couples will either have to complete the binding with a Ministry official before witnesses or provide sufficient proof as to non-compatibility to dissolve the bonds on or before March 15 or face Ministry sanctions up to and including time in the newly rebuilt Azkaban prison._

_And as previously reported, couples will be bound by law and inclination to pursue regular marital activities in an effort to produce magical children. The Daily Prophet wishes all the newly matched couples our heartfelt felicitations and urges them to do their duty for wizarding Britain!"_

_**HPHPHPHPHP**_

Three days had passed since the notices had been received. Three days for the news to sink in. Three days of avoiding certain people, of strained conversation carefully avoiding the topic on everyone's mind and three days of false cheerfulness. Hermione had finally escaped outside to the bench overlooking the pond with the excuse of a book to get away from the tension within the Burrow. She simply wanted to be alone with her thoughts and away from the watchful eyes. The book was soon set aside and Hermione simply closed her eyes and let the sun warm her cheeks while her thoughts flitted around with no conscious direction.

It was perhaps fifteen minutes of solitude before Hermione felt a presence behind her, but she kept her eyes closed and her face turned towards the sun. She knew it would be Ginny or Harry, possibly even Fleur. Someone to offer vague and comforting, empty words. It didn't matter much who it was, it wouldn't be Ron. He still wasn't speaking to her and it was her fault and now she was bound to his brother.

The presence sat down on the other end of the bench by the pond and was quiet for some time. Enough time that Hermione finally opened her eyes and turned to see who it was.

Oh. It was Fred. She had been avoiding him since she had received her notice, but she knew it wouldn't last. It couldn't. They were bound now and would have to talk about it some time. So when Fred gestured questioningly at the open seat next to her, she shrugged her acquiescence. He had settled his lanky body comfortably, and he was watching her intently, his eyes unreadable. Since his very-near-death experience, he had been a lot more somber, a lot more introspective, and nearly inseparable from George. But he had been coming out of his shell more lately, at least until the entire nonsense with the marriage law began.

"Granger," he said softly, then he stopped, and continued to look at her.

"Weasley," she returned shortly. Really, she wasn't sure what to say, where to begin a conversation with her husband to be. This whole situation was entirely surreal. Fred was the one to speak next.

"Look, I know it's not ideal. I know you love Ron. So we'll just wait out the six months, and that will be that. I know he's angry about something, but he'll come around." His voice was soft and a little flat. She didn't say anything for a moment, and felt him sigh and shift as if he were going to leave.

"I don't." She blurted it out, and then clamped her mouth shut again. She hadn't said it out loud like that before. Fred shifted and sat down again. "I don't love Ron, not that way. That's why we fought." Hermione buried her face in her hands.

"Oh. Right." Fred could see the pieces beginning to fall into place, could understand why Ron was so angry and why they had been avoiding each other, and could see the meaning behind the significant looks Harry and Ginny were throwing around all the time. Well, the looks that weren't messages of lust and unspoken suggestions of snogging or worse, that is. Fred shook his head to rid him of _that_ disturbing image and turned his attention back to his new fiancée. He was hesitant; she was his friend, of course, but he couldn't claim to know her particularly well. Still, it was obvious how upset she was. "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

Hermione shook her head. "I really don't want to talk about it right now. I'm sorry. This whole thing is just sort of overwhelming."

Fred shrugged, and stretched his lanky legs out in front of him, settling in more comfortably. "It's fine by me. I just wanted you to have an out if you wanted one." Hermione shifted, a little uncomfortably.

"I appreciate it, Fred. Only, there isn't really much chance of an out, is there?" Hermione wrapped her arms around herself. It was odd to be sitting here with Fred Weasley, talking around the fact that they were now bound to each other; that they were to be married for life.

Fred quirked an eyebrow up at her. "What do you mean? I thought people who weren't compatible could dissolve the bonds after six months." Hermione shook her head at that.

"That's how it sounds, but it's not how it is. I mean, not if you read all the legal language and research it thoroughly. The law assumes there is no way for the spell to go wrong, but King was able to build in some protection. However, the only way to prove incompatibility is to prove abuse or total impotence. So, you're well stuck with me, I'm afraid."

A silence fell between them, but it wasn't as uncomfortable as Hermione had feared. It was almost companionable. They both pretended to study the pond, while sneaking glances at each other, trying to gauge each others thoughts.

"Look, Fred, I . . ." Hermione started to speak, then stopped. Fred finally looked at her, really looked at her closely. The embarrassment and discomfort were clearly weighing on her. So Fred leaned towards her, put a tentative hand on her knee, which made her start slightly.

"Hermione, I know it's odd. It is for me too. I mean, we've been friends for awhile, but I don't think either of us ever thought of each other this way before. That's ok. We've got some time to figure this out, yeah?"

Hermione gave him a hesitant smile and nodded. "You're being really great about this, Fred. How are you taking this all?"

"Well, I figure I've gotten a good deal. You're wickedly smart, famous, and a gorgeous bird. What's not to like?" Fred gave her a wink and she broke out in a genuine grin, as he bumped her shoulder with his. If she had to be married against her will, at least she'd been matched with someone who made her laugh.

The companionable silence descended on them again, but this time, Hermione didn't shift around as much. Instead she found herself leaning into Fred somewhat.

"Fred," she began, but hesitated. He cocked his head and raised an eyebrow at her in inquiry. "It's going to be fine, right?" Her voice was small, her eyes had a touch of pleading in them. He put an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze.

"Of course it will," he said with confidence. Whether he really felt it was less certain, but she was reassured anyway.

_**HPHPHPHPHP**_

The peaceful scene was disturbed a short time later by a loud popping sound and Fred's twin was before them. George quickly sat on the other side of Hermione and draped his arm around her shoulders in a mirror of Fred.

"So, Granger. I hear you are to be my wife-in-law. Welcome to the family!"

"What?" Hermione exclaimed, as Fred started laughing loudly. "_Wife_-in-law?"

George wagged his eyebrows at her with an exaggerated leer on his face. "Well, yeah. Didn't Freddy tell you? We share everything!"

Hermione started chuckling at the absurdity of it, while Fred good naturedly shoved George's arm off of them and told his brother to sod off.

George stood up and said with a more serious air, "Much as I hate to interrupt the lovebirds, Fred and I need to get back to the shop. Verity's probably going spare and we left a potion in stasis that we ought to get back to quickly. Kiss each other nicely and make a date to discuss wedding plans and let's be on our way, Forge." George made a show of turning around and humming loudly.

Hermione continued to smile, feeling slightly more at ease, and Fred pulled her into a full hug.

"Gred's right, we're staying pretty busy these days, trying to rebuild the stock. I guess we need to try to get to know each other better. Would you like to come out for dinner tomorrow night?"

"I suppose that would be fine. Owl me with details?" Fred nodded as he stood up and stretched. With a wink, George and Fred disappeared in a loud pop.

Hermione sat on the bench overlooking the pond for awhile longer, lost in thought. It wasn't entirely true to say that she had never thought of Fred in that way. She'd harbored a small crush on him in her third year, but that had faded quickly enough, and she'd thought for a long time that she would be with Ron. The very thought of Ron made her sigh.

She had not meant to hurt him. Maybe if the law hadn't come along, things may have been different. But there was no purpose in that; the law had come and with it came the necessity of really examining her feelings and the answer was clear enough. What she told Fred was true. She did not love Ron romantically. She had tried, and for a long time she had convinced herself that she was in love with him. A piece of her had known a long time ago that a romantic relationship was doomed. It wasn't that Ron wasn't smart enough; no one could be that good at chess and not have brains. It was that he wasn't as driven as she was, or as interested in knowledge. Their personalities grated against each other. That was the core problem. They kept waiting for something from each other that would never happen.

He had not spoken to her in the two weeks since, making things extremely uncomfortable for everyone.

Ginny had told Hermione that he had been avoiding Fred since the matches were announced, and that Ron himself had been matched with Daphne Greengrass, a Slytherin girl in their year. He had met her yesterday in Diagon Alley, but no one had told her anything about how it had gone.

Not that it mattered. She knew that Ron would eventually get over his anger, and see that she had been right, but it still tore at her heart when their eyes met. Hermione could see the sadness and hurt behind the anger, and she was sure it was compounded by her being matched with his brother.

That had been a complete shock to her. If she had known that Ron was not the one for her, she had not given much thought to who would be right. She had certainly not expected another Weasley, let alone one of the twins. Circe knew how many times they had clashed in school. Still, if Hermione were being honest, it wasn't a totally baseless match. Fred and George were brilliant, as evidenced by the enormous array of products they'd developed for their shop. She had been surprised, when she had first visited, at the complex arrangements of charms and potions required to produce some of their products. What she had mistaken initially for laziness and dismissed as flippant was really quite the opposite. It took a great deal of creativity and study of magic to conceptualize and then produce their products, and there was no question about how hard the twins worked to keep their shop running.

No, Fred and Ron were very different people, for all that they were brothers; and Hermione, by choosing not to be bound to one, had found herself bound to the other. To her surprise, she was beginning to think that strange as it was, perhaps it would not be so bad after all.

**_HPHPHPHPHP_**

While Hermione was ruminating by the pond, Fred was trying to avoid George. He'd been fairly successful while he could claim to be restocking the shelves or brewing potions, but he couldn't avoid George forever.

And George, unfortunately, knew it. He waited until they were closing up shop and Verity was gone before cornering Fred at a worktable and standing with his arms crossed and eyebrow raised.

"She's coming over for dinner tomorrow. Will you be here? Pass the gurdy root; it needs to be mashed." George reached behind him to retrieve the slightly wilted radishes and passed them on, and considered his twin with uncharacteristic seriousness.

"Do you want me to be there?"

Fred kept his eyes on the mortar and pestle and shrugged. " 'Sup to you, mate. I can't decide whether she will be more relaxed with both of us there or more frightened."

"She knows us. Is she really frightened?" The disbelief in George's voice was apparent.

Fred shrugged again, his air of casual indifference belied by the tension in his shoulders. "This is a pretty unique situation. She was dating Ron just a couple of weeks ago. Now she's engaged to me. I don't suppose I need to mention the war that was on mere months ago, brother mine. It's a lot to take in. I need the moonstone shavings."

George handed him the bottle and watched as Fred worked with deliberate, precise movements to add the right amount of shavings per clockwise stir to get the maximum dream state for the Patented Daydream Charms. Fred was usually seen as the more out-going, boisterous twin; few people really got to see Fred like this, quiet and still and measured. George could tell he was troubled.

"So, Hermione Granger, eh? Are you looking forward to shagging her?" Fred nearly dropped his glass stirrer into the potion, and shot his smirking twin a dirty look.

"Georgie, you are going to distract me and this whole batch will be worthless. What are you on about?" George dropped the smirk and hopped up to sit on the workbench.

"It's just that I am the only wizard alive that knows you fancied her a few years ago. And she's a pretty gorgeous bird, and it's been some time since you've got a leg over. Not to mention the idea of picking her brains and how she could help the shop."

"I don't know that she has any interest in the shop. I haven't any idea at all about what she wants to do, and how she plans to deal with missing her NEWTs, or even where she wants to live. That's the problem, innit? I don't really know her at all. I knew the bossy little know-it-all bint, but I don't know this bird very well at all, except that she was my little brother's girlfriend, and he's ruddy hacked off about the whole situation." Fred sat back to let the periwinkle potion simmer until it became lilac.

"So he's finally speaking to you then? If he's so upset, why didn't he just propose to her?" George crossed his arms.

"Hermione didn't want to talk too much about it, but she said that it was her doing, that she didn't love him that way."

George whistled, a long, low sound. "No wonder he's so hacked. Poor bloke. Even so, I never could see why they were together. Who wants to fight all the time?"

"No ruddy clue. I hope we don't fight all the bloody time," Fred said with a grimace. He leaned over to check the potion, which was giving off bursts of blue steam as the bubbles rose slowly to the top and broke.

"Not all the time, just when you want a really good shag," George said with a chuckle, to which Fred responded with an audible groan.

"Bugger. You don't think she and Ron were shagging all this time? Bloody hell." George laughed aloud, but then considered and shook his head.

"Nah, they wouldn't have fought so much if they were shagging. Remember how much you and Angelina fought? _We_ never fight, mate." George's voice was definitely smug.

"Yeah, I know. Someone keeps forgetting the sodding silencing charms. And if you don't start using them, brother dearest, I will be forced to take action. And Angelina won't like that." Fred shot his twin a look that was half aggravation, half wicked amusement. George just shook his head and hopped off the worktable. "Where are you going, you wanker? Hand me the jabberknoll feathers before you go."

George sighed dramatically, but pulled three feathers from their jar and handed them over. "Are you going to need help with the charms then? Or should I go start dinner?"

Fred grunted. "I think I can manage the damn charms. But if you think I'm eating pancakes again, you're cracked. Why don't you wander down and see if Tom'll sell us a bite? Fish 'n' chips has got to be better than your soggy eggs."

George clutched his chest. "You wound me, Forge. Impugning my cooking skills, when you can't cast a laundering charm to save your arse."

"It's true, brother mine. I can't do laundering charms. Neither can you cook. And since it's my night to make the Daydream Charms, you have to buy something unless you can sweet talk Mum into giving you a care package. I'll cook tomorrow though."

George was already drawing on his robes to head out, and shook his head. "You'll have to save me some then. I'll go over to Angie's so you and Hermione can be alone. But we'll all go out sometime soon, yeah?" Fred nodded distractedly.

"Oi, Gred, be careful out there, yeah? I know it's s'posed to be safer now and all, but watch your back." Fred had been very careful of him when they were apart, though he refused to talk in depth about why. George knew though that it had to do with his experience during the battle, and tried to be forbearing.

"I will, I will. You know there hasn't been an attack in the Alley in weeks though, right?"

Fred merely nodded, his attention being drawn fully back into the potion before him, which was now lilac and emitting the smell of cloves with each bubble that burst. In two minutes, he would have to cast the complex series of charms that would imbue the potion with the activation trigger and divide it into the correct portion sizes. A memory niggled at the back of his mind, from before the war began in earnest, of a sixth year with thick wavy brown hair and sparkling brown eyes softly saying this was really extraordinary magic. . .


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: Not my characters, sadly. They still belong to JK Rowling et al. I just take them out and make them wear pretty dresses and dance to my tunes, because I can. No profit is made from this endeavor, save for feeding the petty tyrant portion of my personality._

_**Chapter 2**_

"This is ridiculous, Ginny! I'm just going over to the twins' flat for dinner. This isn't some sort of important date." Hermione scowled at her friend who was methodically pulling out clothes from the wardrobe and holding them up to her consideringly. "Besides, I never took you for being a girly girl."

Ginny just brushed her hair behind her ears, making the purple amethyst and yellow topaz ring on her left hand glimmer, and laughed. "I'm not, Mione. I'm nowhere near Lavender and Parvati anyway. But come on. You'll be more comfortable if you dress up and treat it like a date. You've been fretting all afternoon. Besides, I'm bored. Maybe if we charmed this yellow?" she asked, holding up a blouse.

"Ugh, yellow is certainly not my color. And that is not my style," Hermione huffed. "If you are going to insist on this, then you can charm that jumper to a different color. No, not that one, the one with the elbow length sleeves." Hermione used her wand to levitate the jumper in question.

"Giving in, are we?" Ginny began experimenting with the purple sweater, turning it green, then pink.

"Not at all. And certainly not pink. Or not that shade of pink, at any rate. What about blue?" Ginny giggled, and the sweater became a soft cornflower blue. "And what's next, Madame Malkin?"

"You should wear a skirt. What about this one?" Ginny held up a short white skirt.

"Ginevra Weasley! I cannot believe you own something that short. I most certainly will not wear that!" Hermione tried to sound appalled, but she couldn't keep her face straight. "I bet Harry loves that skirt."

Ginny gave her a wicked grin that reminded Hermione of her brothers and nodded. "Oh yes. I figured Fred would too. Not that I want to think of my brother that way, mind." She scrunched up her face and tossed the skirt aside. "But if you are going to try and seduce him, you should do it right."

"Circe's eyes! I am not trying seduce Fred, Gin. And I am definitely not wearing something that has a slit like that. Is your mum aware of what you've done to your clothes?" Hermione was staring in disbelief at the next skirt in Ginny's hands.

"Mum has seen some of them, but I usually use a sticking charm so she doesn't notice. What about this? Is this conservative enough for you, Ms. Prude?" Ginny held up a black pencil skirt that looked like it would hit at Hermione's knees. "I don't know why you can't flash a bit of thigh at your fiancé. Honestly, Hermione, you've got great legs. Nothing to be ashamed of."

"I suppose that will do, Ginny." The laughter was gone from her voice though, replaced with a pensive tone. She was resting her chin on her hand, and studying the faded, worn carpet of Ginny's room.

Ginny frowned and banished the pile of clothing back to the wardrobe, and settled cross-legged on her bed. "Mione, what is wrong? I thought you were getting more comfortable with this idea."

"I was, I guess. I mean, I don't know. It's just . . . it's Ron, I suppose." Ginny quirked an eyebrow, and Hermione sighed. "No, I don't regret my choice. Ron and I are all wrong for each other at this point. But I'm sorry he's so upset. And I don't like that he is ignoring me. He was one of my best friends for years and I care about him a lot. It bothers me to think he's hurt by my actions."

"That's fair. But Mione, you can't fix it now. You are both engaged to other people. Leave him be. He'll get over you eventually."

"I guess." Hermione looked morose.

"Chin up. Think about Fred, then." Ginny was encouraging, but Hermione was still somber. "Nope, no more of that. You have a date. I'm going to get you ready. What about your hair?" There was a determinedly cheerful tone, and in no time, Ginny had dragged Hermione into studying pictures of magazines and arguing about the best way to tame her frizz. Shortly before six, Hermione was bundled into the shower, with strict orders to use the shaving charm 'because you never know!' and then yanked out, dressed like a doll and ordered into a seat for Ginny to fix her up. Hermione gave up protesting and let her work, feeling both ridiculous and pleased to be pampered.

She refused to think of it as dressing up for Fred though, as she pulled a traveling robe on over her Muggle clothing. If she approached this as an interview or an opportunity it would be far easier to manage. Yes, a business opportunity. That would the best way to go. Still, she couldn't help but admit, when she looked in the mirror, that Ginny had done her best to make her look pretty. And while she would never admit it to Ginny, dressing up did make her feel a little better about dinner. If she tried hard enough, she could even pretend it was a date. And there wasn't anything so scary or life-altering about a simple date. . .

_**HPHPHPHPHPHP**_

Hermione apparated directly to the back alley of the Leaky Cauldron and walked out into Diagon Alley. There were more people about than before the war, but the Alley had not yet fully recovered and people were still wary of lingering overlong. The Daily Prophet still reported near daily about skirmishes and attacks on wizarding areas and households, and it was no secret that Aurors were stretched thin. Knowing that many of the Death Eaters had been killed or captured was some comfort, but no one wanted to delay their business to hang about yet. The bright, bustling shopping center that had so awed Hermione at age eleven was perhaps irretrievably altered. Florean Fortescue's was still boarded up and desolate, but she did notice that Ollivander was again open for business.

Approaching the shop, Hermione had to smile. It had been attacked and damaged by Death Eaters near the end of the war, but there was no sign of it now. It was just as garishly bright and eye-catching as it was when it opened, and was one of the few places which seemed as busy as ever. She opened the door and George cheerfully looked over to Hermione.

"Madame Granger! How delightful! Welcome back to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, the finest joking and pranking establishment in all of the British Isles!" He gave her an extravagant bow and Hermione laughed, and kissed him on the cheek.

"Hi George. I'm to meet Fred, but I didn't want to interrupt if he was still busy," she explained unnecessarily.

"Lucky bloke, he is. You look smashing, Hermione. Fred's skived off work this afternoon, lazy sod, solely to impress you with his cooking abilities, so be nice. He's up in the flat. You're early though, so he'll be disappointed not to meet you down here."

She smiled at George and said, "Well, I'll just go up, shall I?"

"Just go back through the blue door, cross the workroom and you'll see the stairs up. Don't do anything I wouldn't do now, Ms. Granger!" He winked and was already turning to greet the next customer before she had crossed the sales floor.

Like most buildings in Diagon Alley, the shop was magically altered, being in reality far larger than it looked from the outside. This, of course, allowed the twins to have their flat above the shop, as well as adequate workspace, but their utilization of the available sales floor was really quite impressive. There was something new to attract the eyes everywhere you turned, but it was subtle enough not to give one a headache or be entirely overwhelming. There was a great deal of shrewdness involved in the layout. Hermione was realizing more and more just how greatly she'd underestimated these two of the Weasley brood.

These thoughts half-formed as she made her way through the rooms towards the stairs. It was with a start that she realized she was probably going to become very familiar with the store, seeing as she was going to marry into the ownership. A small chuckle escaped at the thought, which was excellent, because the butterflies started in her stomach as she climbed the stairs to the flat. Hermione was vaguely disgusted with herself, but really. It's not everyday one has their first date with their future spouse. She felt awkward and suddenly regretted letting Ginny make her over. She hoped Fred didn't get the wrong message. Not that she was sure what the right message was. And now she was rambling in her own thoughts, for Merlin's sake.

Giving herself a shake, she knocked on the door to the flat, which was painted a bright red. The door was quickly opened by Fred, who was also dressed nicely, though without the robes Hermione had on. She couldn't help a small sigh of relief at the sight of him similarly attired. He stood aside and gestured inwards, with a small bow from the waist. Gathering her courage and wits about her, she stepped inside.

_**HPHPHPHPHPHP**_

Fred closed the door behind her, feeling a bit flustered. He had spent the afternoon tidying the flat, and only just had enough time for a shower. It's not that they were messy, really. It's just that the shop had to be kept well in order, and they had to be meticulous about their potions ingredients, so they often got a bit lazy in their living space. He'd begun dinner before his shower, but it wasn't ready, and he wasn't quite ready for Hermione. But as she was here, and looking around her with some curiosity, he ignored the feelings of bumbling and asked if he could take her robes.

"Oh! Yes, of course," she said, with a faint blush, and she immediately began unfastening the traveling robe, and revealed the outfit Ginny had talked her into.

"You look really nice, Hermione," he ventured.

She smiled, but it was a nervous sort of smile, rather than pleased. "Thanks. Right. You look quite nice as well. I'm glad I'm not overdressed."

Fred took her robes and busied himself hanging them near the door so he wouldn't stare. She looked really lovely, more dressy than he was used to seeing her these days, in a skirt and sweater, her face made up. George was right, and Fred hadn't been lying when he told Hermione she was attractive. She really had grown into a pretty woman. He saw her curiosity was unabated, so he stepped forward.

"Not at all. So. Er, would you like the grand tour then?" His voice was near her ear, and Hermione started a bit, stepping back, before catching herself and smiling self-consciously. Fred offered her his arm and grandly gestured before him to the wide open loft space. "This, milady, is the great room. Combining cooking, dining, living and recreational spaces, with a heavy emphasis on utility."

It was not an overly large room, but there were sufficient space with defined areas, the kitchen in the corner, with a beech table and matching chairs beside it, and a grouping of neat, modern leather-covered furniture on the opposite end arranged around a large fireplace. Hermione looked around her and made polite sounds. She felt rather as if she were being given a tour of a company workspace.

Fred was still feeling flustered by her early arrival, hoping he'd managed to clear away anything potentially inappropriate. He led her down the short hallway and gestured towards George's room. "Georgie's pigsty. I shut the door so you won't be horrified. We aren't always the neatest blokes in the world, especially without Mum nagging. Not when we have to keep it all neat below, anyhow. I mean to say, we make some effort, at least in the common areas, but our bedrooms can easily be overcome if we aren't careful. And George has been working on a new product, so he hasn't really had time to straighten lately. Right. Well, um, the guest room is on the other side, next to George's. And across the hall is the guest loo, which George uses as well. This does stay a bit neater, though, since we sometimes have folks staying over. Angelina stays over regularly, and Lee does sometimes as well, of course."

Fred was absolutely babbling, rambling on in a rush to fill even the potential second of awkward silence. Realizing this, he grimaced to himself and opened the door to the loo, which was non-descript, and the guest room, which was standard, if a bit bland. Hermione showed polite interest.

Further down, at the end of the short hallway, he paused. "And here is where all the magic happens." He raised a suggestive eyebrow and opened the door, stepping back to let Hermione in before him. She carefully avoided touching anything, feeling like uncomfortably like a stranger. His room was neat, and orderly, and lacking the burns and stains that decorated his old room at the Burrow from years of experiments. Hermione was unsure what to do with her hands, so she finally clasped them behind her back and smiled nervously at him.

"It's all right, Hermione. I haven't rigged anything in here to bite. Would you like to see the loo?" Hermione quickly nodded her assent.

Chuckling softly, Fred opened the door to the attached loo, and Hermione was surprised to see that it had been expanded to resemble the Prefect's bathroom, albeit with a slightly more moderately sized bathtub, which would likely only fit 8 people instead of 12. A stand alone shower easily big enough for two, there were dual vanities and a closed off w.c.; it was a dream of a bathroom. Fred shuffled his feet a bit, put his hands in his pockets.

"The ensuite. George and I had a bet going on whether or not Bill and Fleur would last, and I won the ensuite when Bill proposed."

Hermione stood near the wardrobe, and grasped at the topic. "I didn't think boys cared much for that sort of thing," she blurted out.

"Well, most blokes don't. I don't use the tub that often. But, well, after sharing a bathroom at school and again at the Burrow with six other people, it's sort of nice to have one all to myself, yeah?" He shrugged a bit and looked embarrassed.

Hermione, however, was starting to feel slightly more at ease, and could definitely relate. "I know what you mean. Well, not entirely, as I was an only child, but growing up with my own space and then moving to Hogwarts and sharing a dorm with four other girls was a big adjustment. I still like having my own space."

"Privacy is nice, and certainly has its benefits." They shared a look of understanding. "So now you've had the grand tour. What do you think of the place?" Fred asked, leaning against the doorjamb.

"It's really quite nice," she replied, glancing around his bedroom once again.

"You sound surprised," he commented wryly.

Hermione laughed. "I guess I am rather. It's colorful, but it's very homey. I think I was a little afraid it would be . . ." her voice trailed off as she searched for the right words.

"Garish? Tacky?" Fred was grinning now, teasing her, which was a role he felt far more comfortable taking on; it was familiar, anyway.

"Er, yeah. You and George aren't known for your blandness, shall we say?" Fred laughed outright at that.

"We are a bit outrageous, I grant you. But that's part of the fun, I think." He was interrupted by a chiming sound. "Bugger. Supper is nearly ready. Let's go back to the kitchen, yeah?"

Hermione followed Fred back to the great room and stood about, feeling a little superfluous as he began levitating dishes to the table and gave a sauce a final taste and stir. She hovered near the table until Fred noticed the lost look on her face and asked her to open a bottle of elf wine he'd chilled. Hermione raised her eyebrow a bit, knowing elf wine was rare and expensive. That made the butterflies return. This was far more like a real date than anything, and it was no good pretending otherwise any longer.

The wine was opened and poured, and dinner laid out and Fred reached around Hermione to pull her chair out for her. She sat and when she opened her napkin to lay it across her lap, it started singing a loud, off-key rendition of God Save the Queen, which made her jump about a foot into the air.

Fred couldn't contain a snort of laughter, but immediately summoned a new napkin for her. "Sorry about that. Swear it wasn't me. George must have decided we'd need an ice breaker." She only shook her head wryly, and held her glass out for him to pour the wine, and then took a large gulp when he returned the glass to her.

Dinner was a surprising affair. Fred, to Hermione's surprise, was a fairly good cook. The food was really quite tasty and the wine paired well with it. Still, there was an air of superficiality to it that caused the atmosphere to retain a bit of awkward nervousness. Conversation was at first stilted, and felt forced.

Fred was feeling the tension building. He took a large swallow of wine and finally said, "Right, so are you as completely nerve-wracked as I am?"

Hermione gave a relieved sort of nervous laugh. "Yes? I guess it depends on how anxious you are. I'm terrified." Even admitting that made her relax a bit though. It was a comforting thought to know she was not alone in her fear of awkwardness.

"This is ridiculous. How many meals have we shared together between Hogwarts, the Burrow and Grimmauld Place?"

"I know. I know, but it's just . . ." Hermione bit her lip, trying to find the right word to describe the surreality of the situation in which they found themselves.

"Awkward." Fred sighed a bit, and cast around for a safe topic. After another healthy swallow of wine (and wishing it were Ogden's best instead) he risked asking a question that had been bothering him some, because he knew it was important and had been unsure how to broach the topic. "So, Mione, if it's alright I call you that, of course, what are your career plans? What about your NEWTs?"

She gave a small moue of displeasure. "Mione is fine, better than _Hermy_, anyhow. As for NEWTs . . . I had thought about returning to Hogwarts when it reopened, but then the marriage law nonsense arose, and I realized that much as I loved Hogwarts, it was behind me. So I suppose I'll have to revise on my own and sit the NEWTs at the Ministry. I can't really pursue any sort of worthwhile career without the NEWTs."

Fred leaned back and fiddled with his fork while he thought about that. "What is it you hope to do, then?"

She shrugged. "I'm not sure, entirely. Back in fifth year, I'd sort of thought Harry, Ron and I would all become Aurors, but I think I've had enough of dark wizards for present. I had considered healing at one point, but honestly, I don't think I've the right disposition for taking care of people."

She paused and frowned at the knife in her hand. "Maybe something within the Ministry, but I'm not terribly fond of it. If I had my choice, I'd like to find a way to help people and magical creatures. Not through the Departments, mind, but by changing the laws. There are so many utterly pointless and archaic laws that exist that do nothing but promote discord and make things unnecessarily difficult for people, not to mention some of the restrictions on magical creatures." She punctuated her statement by a particularly emphatic skewering of chicken breast onto her fork.

Fred leaned forward a bit then, saying "You're thinking of becoming a wizarding barrister then? That's bloody brilliant, Hermione. Perfect for you."

She blushed a bit at his enthusiasm. "Yes, well, I'm not sure, and of course I have to see how things go with the NEWTs, and then see about an internship to study Magical Law. It's not like in the Muggle world, where you do additional specialized schooling. But I do think it rather plays to my strengths in researching and arguing."

She said this with a completely straight face, but a definite mischievous twinkle in her eye, which made Fred chuckle. "But I have also given thought to pursuing Potions, and possibly trying to attain Master status."

This came as a bit of a surprise to Fred, who actually set down the bite he'd about to eat to ask, "Really? I thought about that for awhile, but we have so much going on in the shop, and I do most of our brewing. And of course, never got the NEWT for it." He gave her a wink and a cheeky grin, but Hermione didn't laugh. She looked thoughtful instead.

"You could still do, if you wanted. Your experience with the shop might reduce the time necessary for apprenticeship. And anyone can take NEWTs at the Ministry, you know. And you could hire on others to assist with the shop to help you free up some time. Not that there is anything wrong with not pursuing that, mind." She sort of stuttered to a stop, afraid she'd offended him by suggesting his education was lacking.

Fred went ahead and ate his bite of asparagus as he considered the idea. "It's an idea, but it's dangerous to bring in outside people and teach them our tricks. We could require a wizard's oath, but those can be broken, and we don't want to invest the time to train someone and have them leave as soon as they've figured out our secrets. And, Mione, it's ok. We don't care that we don't have NEWTs. We've done pretty well without them. But I know education is important to you, and I'll support that." She looked gratified by that.

From that point, conversation seemed to flow a bit more easily. The wine seemed to help both Fred and Hermione relax some, and they fell into a more natural rhythm that felt familiar. Hermione asked about the shop and how business was going, and Fred answered, then began to entertain her with stories of product testing, which led to funny stories about living with George that she hadn't heard before.

Following dinner, Fred offered Hermione coffee, which she accepted and they moved from the table to the couch, where they sat on opposite ends, facing each other. This felt more familiar and comfortable, and some of the formality that had accompanied dinner eased away. Fred found himself staring at Hermione's lips, to his chagrin, remembering the way she had licked the buttery sauce off of them. Merlin's beard, he was finding himself attracted to her. She wasn't as shrill or as uptight as she had been at school, and seemed far more willing to laugh. He had been half afraid she would reprimand him for his table manners, but she was more relaxed than he had seen her previously; that certainly was a bit of a relief. And she was bloody smart, no question there. But where she had used to spout off for long lectures about what she knew and thought you ought to know as well, she'd now ask intelligent questions and engage in conversation on a topic. It was refreshing to have a mind quickly grasp the subtleties of the products he and George created. They were often dismissed because they took the form of jokes and pranks, but they were layered and complicated conjunctions of multiple magical disciplines. Hermione clearly understood that and appreciated their creativity.

For her part, Hermione was finding herself increasingly aware of the differences in Fred as an individual person and Fred as one half of Fred-and-George. Without an audience, he was less of a personality and more of an approachable person. He still was quick with words, mind, and had constantly made sly jokes and plays on words throughout the meal, making her laugh, but it wasn't quite the show that she had been used to seeing from him. She supposed he was more mature than he had been at 17. Becoming a successful business owner and taking part in a war, not to mention nearly dying, would likely do that. And she noticed that Fred kept glancing at her mouth, which amused her somewhat. She hadn't given too much thought to his 'type' of witch; Aphrodite knew she liked lanky, well-muscled red-heads right enough. The idea that he might be attracted to her . . . that would require some thought. For now though, she was simply glad the butterflies had ceased to plague her stomach.

She felt, or rather they both did, that there was a growing sense of companionship between them. They'd been friendly before, of course. But rarely had they spent time one on one. This evening was rather enlightening that way; they felt that it was a good start, encouraging that they could have a pleasant evening in each others company. And now they were curled up on the couch, and feeling relaxed.

Conversation had drifted back towards WWW products and potions. Fred, sprawled out on the couch summed up their earlier conversation. "So, well, that's something. You do definitely want a career then." Hermione only gave him a look that plainly indicated he was stupid for thinking otherwise, but Fred just shrugged.

"Well, we do pretty well in the shop. Really quite well, actually. Hand over fist, and that doesn't count the mail-orders. George and I put in an offer to buy this place after the first year, you know, and have some big plans."

Hermione looked suitably impressed. "I had no idea. I mean, that's wonderful, Fred. But I couldn't not have work. I need to be kept occupied. In fact, I've been going a bit stir crazy at the Burrow, now that the clean-up is finished. I don't see myself being at all happy as a house-witch raising a brood of children."

Realizing it may have sounded as if she'd just insulted his mother, she flushed. "I'm sorry. That sounds snobbish and awful. I don't think there is anything wrong with that at all, I just don't think it's for me." Fred didn't say anything, and Hermione's distress at her blunder grew.

Fred was unsurprised to hear that Hermione was a driven witch, no shocks there. He was surprised to see that she was upset over the perceived insult to his family. Impulsively, he reached across the division of the sofa cushions and took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze. "It's okay, love. I know you love my mum and don't look down on her. No offense taken. But it does bring up a question." Hermione was still surprised to find her hand in his, and unsure what to do, she left it there. "Children."

"Yes. Well, the Ministry is doing it's best to make sure we have them and quickly, aren't they?" there was a waspishness to her tone that set him on edge. She saw him tense and sighed. "I hadn't given much thought to children, honestly. I'm not particularly maternal." Fred snorted. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Hermione, honestly, you were like a mini-mum in school, between making sure Harry and Ron did their homework and watching out for the ickle firsties we tried to test on. You exude maternal kindnesses." She flushed again.

"Okay, maybe I should say that I know absolutely nothing about babies and find the idea of pregnancy and child-rearing utterly terrifying. Not to mention that a pregnancy anytime soon could hurt my NEWT scores and affect my career choices. There is no way I could be a Potions master if I'm pregnant, because some of the required potions are potentially toxic, not to mention the potential complications if a potion isn't brewed correctly."

Fred's face had become unreadable during her rambling. "So you don't want children at all?" His tone was low, and she wasn't sure how he felt about this, except that he felt strongly.

"No, that's not what I mean at all. I don't know. I'm not opposed to the idea, at least eventually. I just don't want them soon." It might have been her imagination, but there was relief in his eyes. Carefully, she asked in as neutral a tone as she could, "What about you, then?"

He cleared his throat. "Er, fairly well the same. I mean, I have more experience around babies and I think kids could be loads of fun, but we're sort of stretched thin with the shop now, as it is, and that doesn't include our expansion plans. And if you are going to work, I think it would be a good idea to put off children for a bit." Hermione squeezed his hand in understanding.

"Good. So, that's settled, save for one thing. We can't use contraceptive spells or potions." Fred's

eyebrows shot up in surprise and anger. "Fine print of the marriage law again. In addition to being required to have regular intercourse, contraceptive measures are forbidden by the Ministry. Punishable by increasing fines." She sighed. "Wizarding contraceptives, anyway. They haven't made any provisions for Muggle methods. So there are still some options there." Fred looked a little alarmed by this.

"You, uh, want me to put a, uh, thingum on my, erm, package?" Wizard teens were often told horror stories about some of the medieval Muggle contraceptive devices. He couldn't quite see the point of having sex if your cock was wrapped up, personally. Still, they had just agreed they didn't want children anytime soon, and they weren't going to be able to abstain or avoid sex.

Hermione blushed crimson and stammered, "Er no, no. Condoms, do you mean? No, that won't be necessary. There is some Muggle medicine I can take every day that the Ministry shouldn't be able to trace. So um, I'll just get that started, if you don't mind, then. So far as I know, it is not quite as effective as the contraceptive potions, but should still be relatively helpful." Her voice had gone prim and precise, into lecture mode. But Fred was too relieved to tease her. Bloody unnatural things, those comdoms; he was frankly more than relieved to hear she had another trick up her sleeve. However, the shade of red she turned made him think of another question that was likely to be even more intrusive than the one about children.

"Er, Mione. Please don't be upset – I don't want details or anything, but, er. Have you ever had sex before?" Hermione looked down and gulped, and Fred could feel the tension in the hand he was still holding. Slowly, not looking at him, she shook her head. "Oh. I see. Right then. Um, you shouldn't be embarrassed about that. That's not a bad thing or anything." A very awkward silence fell over them.

"What about you? I mean, I've heard stories, so I assume you aren't a, well, but I haven't any idea what's true. I assume you and George didn't actually shag all three chasers in the changing rooms after winning a Quidditch match?" She still didn't quite look him in the eye, but at least she seemed slightly less embarrassed than she was before.

"Gods, no! George and I have _very_ firm rules about that sort of thing. For whatever reason, people think because we're twins and pretty close, that we must be interested in all sorts of pervy things. That is not that case. I mean, would you want to have sex with your brother?" Fred made such a comically disgusted face that Hermione laughed softly. His hand still held hers, and she felt comforted by that contact. "So no, there was no shagging in the changing rooms, least not as you describe. I know there was shagging in there, but it was never a group activity."

"Who shagged in there, then?" Hermione was curious.

Fred grimaced. "I know George and Angelina shagged in there at least twice because I walked in on them, and probably more often. Oliver was always popular with the ladies, especially after he got the invitation from Puddlemere. I heard rumors about Katie and some bloke, and from what I hear, Harry and Ginny have christened it as well." Hermione's eyes got wide and a guilty look flitted across her face. "Don't tell me you knew that, please. I do not like to think about young Harry and my baby sister in that sort of way." He shuddered for emphasis, and Hermione settled for a quick wink, and quiet descended over them.

Hesitatingly, she broached the subject again. "So, what about you then?" If she was going to be embarrassed, then so was he.

"You sure you want to know?" She nodded. "Right then. Er, no, definitely not a virgin. But nowhere near as experienced as you've probably heard. I am a pretty good shag, if I do say so myself, but it's not like I've gone and shagged every witch I've ever dated." Hermione gave a small nod. "Let's just leave it at that, for now, yeah?" He sounded very embarrassed, and his ears had turned red; a sure sign of growing emotion in a Weasley. Hermione nodded again.

There was quiet and Fred abruptly stood up and released her hand. He banished the coffee things to the sink and cast a spell to make them wash themselves and then looked down, rubbing the back of his neck. It's something Hermione noticed he did when he was nervous.

"Look, this is something we should probably talk about more in depth, but I'm willing to put off that conversation for now. It's getting late, and Mum will be wondering where you are. I should get you back to the Burrow. I'll get you keyed in to our Floo so you don't have to go to the Leaky Cauldron anymore. The wards are set up against apparition in right now, but they do allow apparition out, if you prefer to go that way." He remained standing, and Hermione stood as well, a little surprised by the abrupt end to what had been a very pleasant evening.

Given the abruptness and the uneasiness that fell between them when they were standing, Hermione was _very _surprised when Fred suddenly leaned forward, grasping her firmly around the upper arms and leaned in and planted a kiss on her mouth. It wasn't particularly romantic, as there was a good meter of space between them, but it was most definitely no friendly gesture either. It was chaste, and brief, but Hermione felt a tingle in her stomach wholly unrelated to the butterflies that had visited earlier. Her arms came up to Fred's shoulders as he pulled away from her, and she leaned towards him again.

Softly she said, "I had a really, really wonderful time tonight with you Fred. Thank you." And she laid a soft kiss on his mouth. They pulled away and looked at each other for a moment before kissing lightly one more time. Then Hermione pulled back and moved towards the door of the flat, where her robes were hanging. Fred shook his head to rouse himself and went to help her put the robes on. He offered to apparate with her, but she declined. They stood for a moment, then Fred tentatively reached out and wrapped his arms around her and they hugged briefly. Then she stepped away, spun, and was gone with a soft pop.

Fred simply ran a hand through his hair and wondered what the hell he had just done. And more importantly, why the bloody hell he had just done it.

_A/N: Well then! Not a bad start necessarily, though things seem to be a bit confusing for them both. Of course, things are often confusing in a new relationship, if I remember correctly. One note regarding the twins – while I generally try to keep to books over movies, there is no doubt that James and Oliver Phelps have completely ruined the descriptions of the twins provided by JKR. They are simply so fabulous that I cannot see the twins in any other guise than tall and lanky with particularly mobile faces made for being cheerful. So if that seems to be differing from what you remember, blame Warner Bros. casting director!  
_

_I won't be updating this frequently all the time, but I had it done, and it's exciting to see the interest. __Thanks to all who are interested – I've been working on this for a few months now and my husband talked me into putting it out there for more eyes. It's a bit unnerving, but also fun! Special thanks to those who have reviewed, I LOVE the feedback, particularly on what is and isn't working for you.  
_


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: The standard; don't own it, just messing about, as a child does with watercolor. Which reminds me that I sort wish I could mess about with watercolors like a child. In lieu of that though, my creative side brings you the following (standard text messaging rates may or may not apply).  
_

-o0o-

_Chapter 3_

-o0o-

About nine days passed between the dinner and the next time Fred and Hermione found themselves alone again. The shop was perpetually busy, though Hermione was still at loose ends. She spent time with Ginny and with Harry, and had asked Molly Weasley to teach her more of the household charms that Hogwarts didn't really cover. She didn't know whether or not they would live in the flat above the store, but she assumed that wherever she and Fred ended up living would be wizard in nature, rather than Muggle. Molly was delighted to have the help and share her knowledge, since Ginny had never seemed especially interested in housekeeping.

Hermione also took some of her spare time to write to Fred. At first, she had just thanked him again for a lovely evening. He had written back that afternoon, while waiting for the blood replenishing potions they used in the Nosebleed Nougats to reduce properly, he told her. His note was charming and funny, more like the Fred she had been accustomed to. She had written him the next day, asking questions about how they had developed the control of the two pieces of candy and whether or not a blood thinning agent was used in the nougats as well. Thereafter, their correspondence was related to magical theory and potion derivation. Interesting, fascinating at times, but not really personal, beyond a look into how the twins worked together. And Hermione wanted more personal conversation; she wanted to know her soon-to-be husband better than she currently did; besides, there were a lot of practical things that needed to be discussed, and Hermione hated leaving things up in the air like that.

Fred would be over at the Burrow for Sunday dinner, as he and George alternated when they couldn't both come, but that wouldn't give them as much opportunity to talk as she wished. So she decided to take matters into her own hands. After all, they now had just over five months to get married, and plans needed to be made. Feeling determined, she packed a lunch and called to Harry she'd be back and Floo'd into the twins' flat, and came face to face with George and Angelina snogging half-naked on the couch in front of the fireplace.

"Oh, gods. I am so sorry. I ought to have fire-called first. Or just apparated to the front of the store. I am so sorry." She caught herself babbling and snapped her jaw shut and knew she was blushing a brilliant crimson, given the heat on her cheeks.

Angelina might have been blushing as well, but simply shrugged her shirt back on and muttered something about the loo and hastened down the hall. George just chuckled and got up to find his shirt in a pile behind the couch. Hermione couldn't help sneaking a peek at him, knowing he and Fred were fairly identical. George was a good looking man, that was certain.

"Hermione, don't be embarrassed. It's our fault. I forgot that Fred keyed you into the floo. You have every reason and right to stop by. We'll try to keep to my room, then, yeah? Trust me, Angelina isn't really into exhibitionism. I should go back and make sure she's not completely mortified. Fred is taking late lunch today and down in the shop if you want to pop down." Giving her a cheeky grin, he ambled back towards the loo.

Hermione trooped downstairs, berating herself for not thinking about their privacy. When she stepped around the blue door that led from workroom to shop, Fred looked up with surprise, and then a slow grin started forming as he took in her flushed face. He called Verity over to the register and came towards Hermione, greeting her with a hug and a quick kiss to her cheek. "Welcome, Mione. I take it you've been initiated in the George and Angelina fan club, then?"

Hermione nodded, looking entirely embarrassed. "I felt so awful. It never occurred to me that they might be in the flat, I just kept apologizing." Fred chuckled and hugged her again.

"Don't worry about it. I've walked in on them a hundred times, and I won't even mention the times they've forgotten silencing charms."

Hermione looked both aghast and intrigued. "No!"

"Oh, yes. It can happen in the heat of the moment. But I told George if it happened again, I would take matters in my own hands. And believe me, I've been working on something terribly devious. But what brings you here?"

Hermione held up the bag she was carrying. "I brought lunch. I should have owled you first, but I was terribly bored – Harry and Ron and Ginny went flying and your Mum went over to Shell Cottage to help Fleur make jam or something or other. I hope you don't mind." A frown creased her face, and she bit her bottom lip nervously. Fred found that endearing and not a little attractive.

"Not at all, if you don't mind waiting. We take lunch in shifts so someone is available, and George has got another 30 minutes to get Angelina off . . ." Hermione elbowed Fred, and he knew she objected to his crudeness, but just grinned wickedly. "So if you want to leave this back here, we'll take it up when it's my turn. For now, would you like to see our new line of Defense products? George and I are talking about opening a new shop that is wholly defense against dark arts merchandise."

"Really?" Hermione perked up at that. "What else would you offer? Besides what you've got here, that is?"

"Well, the usual lot of course; defense books, sneakoscopes, foe glasses, scrying glass and such. Some of this stuff could easily be expanded. We've got a pretty good handle on how to attach shielding and protective charms to clothing and other items. Jewelry with protective charms is extremely popular and can be lucrative. Maybe a warding section as well. And of course, we'd continue offering things like the decoy detonators. George thinks he has a way to contain a hex or jinx within a thin carrier, that would work sort of like fireworks do, only with jinxes or hexes instead of lights."

"How on earth did he come up with that?" Fred was leading her to a more closed off section of the store that contained their dark arts defense products.

"Well, it was a prank idea at first – you can see the application, can't you? Throw a pellet and it bursts and suddenly your mate is walking about with a jelly-legs jinx that can't be traced to you. And once we had that idea, it was easy to jump to a defensive product. It just requires stronger hexes and jinxes. George hasn't quite worked out the mechanism yet, but he thinks he's close. He really needs a few good uninterrupted days to work on it, but we're too busy. Now the kiddies are back in school, things will slow down enough, I hope." Fred pulled down a few items that Hermione hadn't seen before and explained how they worked. Then he took her hand and pulled her back towards the front.

"You've also got to see the new products we've developed in the Wonder Witch line. We might even be able to branch these off into their own market at some point. That would free up this space to add in magical toys, so it wouldn't be just a joke shop. We've had some massive orders from some of the cosmetic witches, and that helps things along."

Hermione couldn't help but be impressed. "This is really amazing, Fred. I had no idea your business was growing so well. You've really got three or four different businesses going on here."

"Yeah, and it's almost too much. We can't quite split out the other lines into their own stores because we need to develop more products and we don't quite have time for it, never mind the personnel problems. And then we've talked about expanding into Hogsmeade as well." Fred moved back towards the counter now and shooed Verity off to keep an eye on two young boys that had come in unsupervised. Fred leaned on the counter and offered Hermione the stool that stood behind the register.

"I think you've got to hire more staff, Fred," she offered thoughtfully. "I don't see how you can keep expanding if you can't get someone else in to take some of the load. Even hiring another person for the register would help, wouldn't it?"

Fred nodded idly. "It might, but it's not always so busy, and we both like one of us being around. And then we come back to the problem of being able to trust someone with the product development. You know as well as I do it's not just potion brewing, but layered charms and some transfiguration as well. We won't be making much profit if we have entire batches ruined because someone can't properly perform the necessary magic." Hermione nodded glumly, but then sat upright, with a gleam in her eyes.

"Wait, Fred. I could do it. I understand the arithmantic principles behind the layering, and I'm good at potions. And I'm bored stiff at the Burrow." Fred's eyebrows rose as he sensed her excitement and her enthusiasm and considered the idea.

"It's not a bad idea. But what about your NEWTs?" She shrugged it off.

"They won't even be offering the testing again until June; I've checked. Minerva offered to meet with me once a week after school settles in to help me with Transfiguration and Charms and Neville offered to study Herbology with me and I've been writing with Professor Vector about the Arithmancy. I'll set up a revision schedule of course, but that doesn't mean I can't help out in the mornings or afternoons. It's not like I haven't revised – there wasn't much else to do when we were living in that bloody tent."

"Hermione Granger, did you just use bad language in front of me? My poor innocent ears!" Fred clapped his hands over his ears dramatically, causing Hermione to roll her eyes. "It's not a bad idea, Granger. I'll talk it over with George, yeah?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Do I need to point out that in less than five months you and I will be bonded for life? Even if I were to steal all your formulae and open my own business, our profits would be shared." A smile gave away her teasing.

"Yeah, but I have to be certain Georgie is all in on the decision. Though given how he was plotting to try to get your bloody brilliance in here, I doubt he'll mind, love."

"Mind what, Freddy? Have you convinced Granger to join us for an afternoon of fun then?" George waggled his eyebrows at her. Fred cuffed his shoulder and rolled his eyes.

"Oi, George, you'll scare her off. I've already told her we've strict rules about that sort of thing."

George gave an exaggerated, heaving sigh. "Oh, brother mine, what a wasted opportunity for pranking. This is how he's been since the Battle, always so serious, not a bit of fun to be had anymore." George didn't seem to notice, but Hermione did, that Fred tensed up when George mentioned the battle. She filed that information away for later. It's not surprising, really, many people still had nightmares, and most of them didn't have the same cause that Fred did.

Fred tried to hide his tension by diverting George, and said with a large smile, "Mione here has offered to join the crew, and help us with brewing and casting to help us get caught up."

George's face lit up at his twin's pronouncement.

"Really, Granger? You're going to work with us? That's bloody fantastic good news. Oi, Fred, you'll work out all the details, yeah?" Fred nodded. "Righto, then, off to lunch you lot. Angelina has already floo'd home, Hermione, never fear." George winked at her and Hermione blushed again thinking about her poor timing, and Fred just chuckled and led the way to the back, grabbing the bag with food on the way up to the flat.

-o0o-

They settled at the table, and Hermione used her wand to levitate the food out while Fred summoned plates and cutlery. They didn't converse as they began the meal, both of them more interested in filling their stomachs than further conversation.

Once somewhat sated, Fred leaned back appreciatively. "Thanks, Hermione. I'm a fair fine cook, but George is bloody awful. It's always a relief to be able to eat Mum's food instead after he's made a mash in the kitchen."

"Oh. I actually made these pasties," Hermione said off-handedly.

"I thought Ron said your cooking was worse than hippogriff dung." Fred looked at her avidly and then took another big bite of his pasty, enjoying watching her flush with anger.

"I'll have you know that was when we were on the Horcrux hunt and there was no food to be had. None of us cooked very well. But as I told you already, I've been terribly bored. Your mum has been teaching me householding charms, and that includes cooking with wizarding appliances. Cooking and potions aren't really so different, if you've got the instructions in front of you. I just forgot to pack a cookbook, not that it would have mattered when we were scrounging for fish and berries." There was a fair amount of heat in her statement. Fred figured she probably only stopped to draw breath, so he cut her off before she could go on another tear.

"Mione, I was having you on. These are delicious. And you've had my cooking, so it wouldn't matter to me if you were a disaster. Although I do hope you are decent with laundering charms, because bugger me if I can get them right." Hermione snapped her mouth shut and gave Fred a glare.

"I'm decent at them." She took another bite and let her ire cool, which gave her opportunity to focus on something else Fred had said. "Would you really cook? You wouldn't expect me to do it?"

Fred cocked his head and looked at her with a look of amusement on his face. "Hermione, I've known you since you were eleven. I'm pretty clear on what you will and will not tolerate. I don't expect you to stay home and play housewitch. You made it right clear what you hope to do, and it won't leave time for you to keep up the entire house. George and I have lived on our own for over two years, I'm used to pulling my weight, yeah? Besides, I'm very fond of my bits, I don't care to tempt you to hex them off."

"Oh. That's um, that's good, Fred. Which I guess raises some of the questions we still need to discuss." Fred sat back and gestured for her to continue. "We need to decide on a date for the wedding, if you want one, that is. And, er, we need to talk about where we'll live . . ." Hermione's voice trailed off.

"Let's see, weddings equal parties, so yes, absolutely, we'll have a wedding. Assuming that's what you want?" He waited for her confirming nod before continuing, "As for when, well, is there any point in waiting?" Fred asked hesitantly.

Hermione looked thoughtful. "I suppose there really isn't. I would expect the holidays through March to be ragingly filled with weddings. We might have an easier time if we try for the fall."

"If it's going to be in the fall, it'll have to be sometime before the Christmas rush. And I'm not sure when George and Angie are planning to get married." Hermione pushed aside the rest of her food, summoned a parchment and a Biro from her bag and began taking notes.

"Right then. So a fall wedding. Er, given that's it's nearly October already, when do you want to do it? We don't have a whole lot of time left."

Fred swallowed the last of his pasty while he considered. "The absolute latest would have to be early November. It's going to be a bit of a madhouse, especially with us so behind on product stock. But I assume between you, Mum and Ginny, there won't be terribly much I'll have to do. And if you'll be helping out with potions and don't mind skipping a honeymoon, we can make it work. So long as it's not the same week as George and Angie."

"Right. Well, find out from George and we'll work this out tomorrow. Do you want a big wedding? I don't know much about weddings, really, especially wizarding weddings. I've only been to Bill and Fleur's, and my cousin Jane's, so I'll have to research wizarding traditions and compare to Muggle traditions. And of course, we'll have to choose attendants and colors and whatnot . . ." Hermione began muttering under her breath as she made more notes.

"Er, Mione? I do have to go back to work. Can we talk about the wedding later?" She looked up from her notes with a blush. "Smashing. You asked about where we should live? I take it you don't want to share the flat with George and Angelina?" Seeing her eyes grow large, he winked at her. "Just joking, love. You can move in here if you like. Alicia is planning to move in with Lee and his cousin, now they've found a house in Wiltshire, and that leaves Angelina's flat open for her and George. I can buy him out here. It's not really big, but it's not bad. There's an extra room for guests and once George's messy arse is out of here, his room could be a study for you. If we get married soon though, there may be some overlap, though George stays at Angie's place often enough."

Hermione was quiet, and she bit her lip. "But, if you don't like it here, or want something bigger, we might be able to find something. I mean, it's not much and there isn't necessarily a lot for you to decorate or whatnot. You'd probably like that." The tips of Fred's ears were turning red, indicating embarrassment, so Hermione shook her head.

"No, no, this is fine. I'm just . . . overwhelmed. I feel like I've just thrust myself into your life and you're just making room for me cheerfully, as if this whole business were natural. I'm just, well, surprised, I guess."

Fred instinctively reached out to hold her hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. He didn't notice that his thumb started rubbing in soothing circles on her palm. "Well, I never did like to do what is expected." His teasing voice was gentle.

"No, really, Fred. Why are you being so nice to me?" Hermione looked troubled. She had noticed how lightly Fred was holding her hand, how dry it was, just a little rough. His fingers were long and calloused and his thumb was making circles on her palm. She was distracted by this contact, by the restlessness it raised in her, by wondering why she hadn't noticed the way his hand felt holding hers the other night.

"Why on earth wouldn't I be nice to you? You are my friend and you're going to be my wife." Fred's face was serious, open, sincere.

"I just feel like I'm messing everything up." Hermione looked down, her eyes drawn to their intertwined hands, her voice soft, a little uncertain.

"Was this legislation your idea?" There was no answer required, but Hermione shook her head. "Right then. I could've found someone if I'd wanted, but I let myself go in the pool knowing I'd be matched with someone. Granted I didn't realize quite what the sodding Ministry had planned, but the point is that you not accepting Ron hasn't changed my life any more than it was going to be changed. In fact, you are making things better. You, I like. We may not have always gotten on in school, but you're bloody brilliant and you are easy to talk to and now that you can have a laugh with me, I am enjoying spending time with you. So stop it, Hermione. You are too bleedin' intelligent to be so insecure."

Hermione nearly gaped at him. It was true that she had been concerned. Wallowing a bit, even, unsure whether or not he could care for her, whether she could care for him, how this would work. There was a look that passed through Fred's eyes that she couldn't quite place. She squeezed his hand, and in a moment, he was out of his chair, kneeling on the floor in front of her, and then he was kissing her. It was not like the soft kiss of their last meeting. This was more insistent, more demanding. And to her great surprise, she was kissing him back. Tentatively, to be sure, but then Fred's free hand came around to cradle her head and pull her in a little closer, and the kiss deepened. That kiss melted into another, and a third and it was a blur of sensations, but when Fred's hand moved to her hip, she stiffened noticeably. Then they broke apart and Hermione rested her forehead against Fred's and closed her eyes.

"Fred, I . . . I know you don't love me," she whispered it.

"Mione, I do. At least as a friend. And I don't think I can deny that I find you fucking gorgeous. We just need some time, yeah?" He gave her a crooked grin. "What about it? Do you think you could ever fall in love with me?" He was sitting back on his heels now, and Hermione made a move to stand up, as she was feeling flushed and restless. She began gathering dishes and carrying them by hand to the sink, solely for the occupation of it.

"Oh yes, quite easily." Fred looked a little stunned at that. "If I'm being honest, it scares me a bit how drawn I am to you. Is it just the binding spells? Is it that we really are totally compatible?" This was clearly bothering her, as evidenced by the tension that set her shoulders and carved a frown onto her face.

Deciding to break the tension as best he could, Fred choose a swooning gesture and said in an exaggeratedly hurt tone, "Of course it has to be a binding spell, can't just be my overwhelming charm."

Hermione laughed lightly and leaned against the countertop next to the sink. "Unlikely, as I got over that crush before my fourth year started. _Hardly_ overwhelming." Fred leaned against the counter across from her.

"Granger, are you admitting you had a crush on me in school?" Hermione flushed crimson, but raised her chin defiantly in the face of Fred's delighted, mischievous grin. "Turnabout is fair play. Don't be embarrassed. I had a crush on you too, but you were older. After the Yule Ball. You looked really amazing that night, you know? And I had fun with Angie, but it wasn't really serious, I knew that already. Of course, you were seeing Krum, so I moved on."

"That's sweet, but you needn't make things up, Fred." She looked down and toyed with the hem of her shirt. Fred crossed the distance and raised her chin so that they were looking in each others eyes.

"Hermione, why do you do that? Why do you keep putting yourself down like that? I am not a liar, Hermione. You are a really attractive bird." She made a sound of disagreement, but Fred refused to let her continue that way. "I'm serious. The only reason I'm not snogging you utterly senseless right this moment is I'm concerned I will terrify you." Her eyes widened a bit in surprise, and she bit her lip. He sighed and moved away, running his hand through his hair and then rubbing the back of his neck.

"Look, I've got to go back down. I've stayed up here too long as it is. I'll be at the Burrow tomorrow, let's talk more then, yeah?" Again, the abrupt ending surprised Hermione, and she felt confused. Her emotions were all over the place and she wasn't quite sure how to read Fred yet, other than to realize he was feeling worked up about something. Probably her. Did he really think she was attractive? Was he just having her on? Something must have shown on her face, because Fred moved back to her again and pulled her into a hug.

Fred's hug was a comforting thing, engulfing. Given their relative heights, Fred could easily rest his head on top of hers; she came up only to his shoulder. Being pulled in and wrapped up in his arms was like being wrapped in a warm blanket. She felt the confusion drain out of her and sighed a bit.

"Hermione, I'm really sorry. I hate to leave things here. But I need to go back. Do you want to come down with me?" She thought for a moment and then shook her head. "Right then. I will talk to George tonight and see you tomorrow, yeah?" Fred leaned back a bit to look at her upturned face, and then they were kissing again, deeply, thoroughly, confusingly. A door crashed open and they heard George call out and they broke apart and flushed deeply.

George stared at them with a cocked eyebrow, crossed arms and a smug grin. "Oi, Granger. Trying to get your own back then?" Hermione just buried her face in Fred's chest and felt the vibrations of his silent laughter.

"Georgie, I'll be down in a mo. Go on now." George could be heard making kissy sounds as he departed. "Sorry, Mione. My fault. I'll see what is happening, see you tomorrow." Hermione nodded and stepped out of his embrace, feeling oddly bereft as she did so.

Her bag was repacked with a wave of her wand and then her bag was in her hand and with a half-smile, she turned and apparated.

Fred released a large breath, walked into the kitchen and poured himself a firewhiskey and knocked it back. He stood there for a long moment, trying to sort through the twists and turns of that encounter, before giving it up and heading downstairs.

-o0o-

George watched Fred. It was obvious he was in a distracted mood. He shrugged it off, but escaped into restocking products and avoided customers. Fred had these sort of moments now and then since the Battle of Hogwarts. They often ended in Fred drinking too much firewhiskey, then stumbling drunkenly to bed, refusing to talk to George about the situation. The fact that this was happening after Hermione's visit, and that George could tell that Fred had already gotten into the firewhiskey, was a clear sign of Fred's discomfort.

George left him alone. Best to, he'd learned. If he gave him space, Fred might be more willing to talk to him than shut himself up with a bottle. George was loud and friendly and amusing and tired by the time the day was done. Verity was sent home after the store had been empty for half an hour and George closed up. Fred had been hiding in the workroom for the last hour, undisturbed. George walked down to the Leaky Cauldron and laughed with Tom while Lancashire hot pot was dished out into conjured covered bowls for him to take back with a case of butterbeer. Food was always the way to soothe a Weasley soul and Fred loathed George's attempts at homemade cooking.

"Oi, Forge, food's on, mate. Put whatever you're working on in stasis, and come upstairs. Just you and me, brother mine, but I'm to go to Angie's tonight. Come on, I didn't cook."

Fred grunted, but waved his wand over the potion and lowered the fire underneath to keep it warm but not simmering. He plodded up the stairs and shed his work robe on the way, tossing them in the general direction of his room when he crossed the threshold of the flat. He flung himself down into a chair and propped his chin up with his hand while George put his dinner before him.

"Butterbeer? Or something stronger?" George's voice was casual, despite the tension he felt.

Fred grunted. "Butterbeer's fine for now. Though we really should stop by Rosemerta's for some mead soon." Fred applied himself to his dinner and there was silence while both brothers ate. George saw Fred relaxing a bit and decided now was as good a time as any to work out the problem, whatever it was.

"Will you apologize to Hermione for us again? I had forgotten she was keyed into the Floo. She looked really embarrassed. Angie was too, a bit. Although it wasn't a bad show you put on either." George grinned appreciatively and Fred gave a half-smile in return.

"Yeah, I'll mention it tomorrow." It was a start, anyway, so George pressed on.

"Why did she come by today?" He followed the question with a casual swig of butterbeer.

"To have lunch, talk about plans. I told her about the flat, that you planned to move in with Angie. She seemed pretty relieved." Fred was sitting back now, more at ease. "We were talking about the shop, and I was telling her about our expansion plans. She offered to come help us brew, says she's bored stiff. Can't take her NEWTs until June, and can't do much until then." George nodded. "Also wanted to talk about wedding plans. No point in waiting, since there isn't any out. She thinks fall will be easier because everyone'll try to marry near the end of the time. We're talking about a fall wedding, but we haven't set a date yet. I didn't know what you and Angie had planned."

George leaned back in his own chair. "Angie has a few ideas, but I think she's well set on January. Best time for both of us, really. After the Christmas rush, before Quidditch starts up again. And if you'll be here to run the store, we can cover you for the fall. Specially if Granger's going to help us restock."

"Good." Fred had been relaxed, but was growing quiet again, fiddling with his butterbeer cap.

"Freddy, what's bothering you? It's ok not to rush in, you know. You do have five months." Fred ran a hand over his face and sighed a bit.

"It's not that. Or maybe it is. I dunno, Georgie. It's just insanity. First off, three weeks ago, marrying Hermione Granger had never occurred to me. And now it is going to happen, and I should be bloody terrified. I mean, I barely know her."

"That's hardly true, Fred. You've slept with several women you've known less. How many summers and holidays has she spent with us? She's been best friends with our little brother since they were eleven and she's been telling us off for years. We were all in the DA together, and that means something. You may not know whether she prefers strawberry jam or orange marmalade on her morning toast, but you've got the essence of her well down, mate. I think what's bothering you is having not noticed her before." Fred was frowning and shot his twin a dirty look.

"Maybe. I really fancy her George. It scares me. And Merlin's bollocks, she is fucking gorgeous. I like spending time with her."

"You mean you like snogging her. I saw you today." George flashed his twin a wicked grin.

"Yeah, I bloody well do. She's so confident about some things and so completely shy and unsure about others. It drives me crazy. Do you know she has no idea how amazing she looks? She's completely convinced that I'm just being kind about the whole marriage law thing and that she's utterly ruined my life by not accepting Ron and getting matched to me through the pool." Fred shook his head in disbelief and frustration.

"Have you told her that you like her? Or that you find her attractive?" Fred jumped out of his seat and began pacing around the table and kitchen.

"Of course. I'm not bloody stupid like Ron, am I? She just doesn't seem to believe me."

"Well," George said in a reasonable tone, "it's understandable to a degree. She wasn't always gorgeous, and she didn't have guys falling all over her, even after we all figured out what she was hiding under her robes, did she? She's too fucking smart, and probably intimidated even the Ravenclaws. So she assumes she's not attractive and our git of a brother probably didn't help that on, seeing's how it took him forever to get interested in her and then told her off when they had that big fight. And even if she's getting to see this other side of you, she's still used to seeing you as a joker, yeah? So she's not sure whether she ought to believe you or not."

Fred stopped pacing to stare at his brother. "You're probably right. It's mental, but you're probably right. Question is, short of trying to shag her, what can I do?"

George raised an eyebrow. "Why not try to shag her?"

Fred grimaced and for the first time felt that perhaps he shouldn't be totally open with his twin. "You'd better never try to use this against her, Gred. I mean it. Twins honor. She's still a virgin. And she's as jumpy as a Hufflepuff in Potions class about anything physical. She's a bloody good kisser, mind, but she looks gobsmacked whenever I touch her. I think that's going to take some more time. And then she'll think I just want to get a leg over and not that I'm having fantasies about her that make me need a shower."

"Right. So you need a way to let her know that you are serious about her, like her, and think she's stunning." George sat back, a frown on his face mirroring the frown on his twin's face.

"That's about the size of it, mate." Fred sighed and reached for another butterbeer. Both twins contemplated the problem, but Fred was again growing morose. "It's this stupid law. I'm interested in Mione because I have to marry her. And I find the more time I spend with her, the more I like her. Hell, I'm looking forward to marrying her because while she's at the Burrow, I don't get to spend nearly as much time with her as I want. But I wouldn't have thought about her if I weren't matched with her and it's not like I can date her, because we're already bound by fidelity charms because of the stupid Ministry."

"Freddy, that's it! You're a genius, you are. I've got the perfect plan for you to woo Hermione Granger." George had a very excited look on his face and Fred felt a grin growing on his own as George began outlining his outrageous scheme.

_A/N: Well, back again, and things proceed on apace. I hope you are enjoying it! I've gotten back to actually writing again on this piece, which is a good feeling. I hope I can stay ahead of things until it's completed, but one never knows. Life has a pesky way of interfering at times._


	4. Chapter 4

_Standard Disclaimer: I do not own these characters (JK Rowling et al are the lucky folk who do), and I make no profit from this endeavor._

-o0o-

_**Chapter 4**_

-o0o-

Hermione spent the morning with Ginny and Harry. It was rare for her to see Harry alone anymore, given the tense situation with Ron. She didn't begrudge him that, they'd all played that role with each other at some point. But she wasn't sure she cared to spend the time with all of them together. Watching Harry and Ginny together left her feeling even more confused than she had been when she arrived back at the Burrow from the shop the previous afternoon.

She had talked with Ginny some, but Fred was her brother, and it left Hermione feeling uncomfortable. How could she talk about feeling attracted to Ginny's brother, let alone confide her confusion about everything? Ginny was completely secure in her relationship with Harry. And she could not talk to Harry. They'd shared a great deal, but he was like her brother. What Hermione really wished for was the ability to talk to her mother. But her parents were still on the other side of the world, as Monica and Wendall Wilkins, completely unaware of their daughter in England. And so she was essentially an orphan again, alone and confused.

So Hermione swallowed back her fears and pasted a smile on her face and tried to enjoy the company and not let her thoughts drift to Fred. Or his embrace. Or his kisses. Or the intense look in his eye when George had interrupted them. Or the way in which he complimented her, so matter of factly, almost as if he believed it to be as fundamentally and unalterably true as Gamp's Five Laws of Transfiguration. Or the pool of warmth and strange tingling that took over when she recalled his hand . . .

"HERMIONE. Hello? Back with us again, then? Brilliant." Harry was grinning at his friend. "And just where did you drift off then?" Hermione felt a blush rising but ignored it in favor of assuming a prissy voice.

"Thinking about the arithmantic principles of layered charms, of course. Didn't I tell you I offered to help in the shop until I can take my NEWTs? Sorry, thought I had."

"You told me, but Harry was out with Ron then," Ginny stated from her perch on Harry's lap.

"Are you really? That surprises me some, I guess." Harry was playing with the ends of Ginny's hair, but looking brightly at Hermione.

"You know, I would have thought so back in fifth year. But I understand more of what they are really doing. It's easy to get lost in the idea of it being a joke shop, but they are doing some really incredibly difficult magic. I always underestimated them, I suppose, because they like a laugh so well, but it wasn't fair of me. What they are doing is really complex, some of it I've only seen in arithmantic exercises. I think it will probably help me on my NEWTs honestly. And since you lot began training, I've been completely bored stiff sitting here on my own."

"And then you can spend more time with Fred," Ginny said slyly.

"How're things going there, anyway? Ron and Daphne have met a couple of times, but he won't say much about it. Must be sort of odd to be suddenly engaged to a twin." Harry was looking at her keenly.

Hermione sighed. "I think we've been able to spend some nice time together, but it will help getting to see more of him. We're talking about getting married soon, actually. There isn't much point in waiting, after all." Ginny and Harry exchanged a glance but didn't say anything. "Ginny, I hope you'll be a bridesmaid, though we haven't gotten very far into plans. And Harry, I was hoping you would give me away. I mean, with my parents . . ." She didn't have to explain; Harry had been the one she had most cried on after making the decision to take Kingsley's advice.

Harry gave her a look completely filled with compassion. "Of course, Hermione. We're the only family we've got left now." Hermione smiled faintly at him. The guilt she felt over how she had manipulated her parents had faded, but only because she refused to look back at it. Shaking herself slightly to avoid morose thoughts, she focused again on the couple before her.

"And your wedding plans? How are they coming along?" Harry and Ginny had planned to be married in mid-October, as the fall Quidditch season began in late October. Ron had, in fact, won his place on Cannon's reserve squad, as Harry had predicted. It was with relief that Hermione realized she wouldn't be subject to constant Quidditch talk, since she was marrying Fred. But no, she wasn't thinking of Fred now, she was listening to Ginny explain her struggles with her mum over details.

"Which I told her was fine, but honestly. I am not having fifteen bridesmaids just to include all the wives of the Weasley cousins. If it were up to me, we'd just elope." Harry chuckled, having heard it all before from his bride to be. "So I talked her down to you and Fleur and Angelina and Luna. Which I still think is too many. But Mum's happier now. Reminds me, Hermione, we've got to go shopping for robes soon or they'll never be ready in time, magic or no."

"Of course, Ginny. I suppose I need to start looking for wedding robes anyhow." There was an awkward moment and Hermione rushed to fill it. "Flowers? Have you made a decision about flowers yet?" Ginny rolled her eyes and Harry grinned and Hermione settled back to listen to ways in which Molly was desperately trying to plan Ginny's wedding for her. Conversation flowed more easily, and Hermione found she was able to relax and push thoughts of Fred away from her for awhile, until the family began arriving for dinner.

Hermione excused herself to go upstairs and freshen up before Fred arrived, wanting a few moments to quell the anxiety that was rising. She felt foolish for feeling so flustered, but she couldn't quite work out how she felt towards Fred. If she was honest, she had to admit she was quite attracted to him. The kisses they'd shared still left her feeling a bit breathless. She was enjoying his company, and his letters. Hermione was finding he was easy to talk to and relax around. And yet, she wasn't sure how he felt and there was a lingering sense of guilt that he was just being gracious because of the ridiculous situation in which they found themselves. She couldn't read him as she could Harry or Ron, and found it disconcerting. Hermione never liked not knowing something, and liked even less being unsure about what was expected of her or what she was to do. It made being around Fred a mix of anticipation, pleasure and awkwardness, making her nervous.

And to make matters worse, she was now thinking about what she could wear that might make her look more attractive. It wasn't that she was entirely uninterested in her appearance; she did try to make sure she looked nice. In school, when they were all in robes, there hadn't been much point in wasting time, by her way of thinking. She enjoyed picking out clothes and shopping as much as most girls, if one removed Lavender and Parvati from the equation, that is. But trying specifically to make herself look good beyond good hygiene? She'd never been particularly good at that. Granted, she had learned to tame her hair with a mix of magical conditioner and a couple of very useful charms, but she was never sure that she quite got the hang of cosmetic charms and often felt like a painted clown trying it. She didn't mind so much when Ginny did it for her, or when they chose clothes together, but on her own, in front of Ginny's wardrobe, she felt very insecure. Maybe if she knew what color was Fred's favorite. . . but then she would be dressing solely to impress him and would have to mock herself ceaselessly.

Heaving a sigh, she stripped out of her t-shirt and reached for a emerald green top that was flowing and comfortable and showed off some skin without being too revealing. She heard the door open and turned around to ask Ginny's opinion, when she realized it wasn't Ginny at all, but Fred. And she was wearing only her jeans and a pink lacy bra, of all the impractical things. She closed her eyes, and turned around. Fred cleared his throat and shut the door behind him.

"Er, I suppose I should have knocked. I'm sorry, Hermione. I really don't mean to embarrass you." Hermione pulled the shirt on hastily before debating turning back around to face him, not sure what she was expecting to see.

Her voice was higher pitched than normal, a little shrill. "No, it's my fault. But I got used to being barged in on by boys last year and well, nothing you haven't seen before, right?" She remained turned away from him to try and hide her blush.

"Right. Well, I popped over a bit early to talk before lunch. Thought we could choose a date and make the general announcement. Mione, I don't want to make you any more uncomfortable." She felt hands on her shoulders, and then Fred's voice and warm breath in her ear. "But I think you're dead sexy." Then he kissed her cheek and finally pulled her into a hug.

Able to speak into his chest rather gave her some courage and she said, "So, a date then?"

Fred released her to flop onto the bed. "Indeed. George and Angelina are planning for sometime in January, and since Harry and Ginny are coming up in a couple of weeks, I was thinking the first week of November, if that's all right with you. The biggest problem is that we really shouldn't shut down the shop on a Saturday so near Christmas, so I was hoping you would consider something mid-week."

Hermione leaned against the wardrobe. "It doesn't much matter to me, when were you thinking?"

"November fifth? It's a Wednesday. Verity can handle the shop for a day mid-week and George has offered to cover for the rest of the week if you'd like to spend some time away. It might be a good idea, because Alicia's not moving out of the flat until the end of November, so George will still be around some."

"Guy Fawkes' Day? You want to get married on Guy Fawkes' Day?" Hermione felt her lips twitching with barely contained amusement. It seemed so appropriate.

"Spotted that, did you? Should have realized. Would you believe it's just that it's my effort to be law-abiding?" Hermione raised an eyebrow in a silent skeptical inquiry. "Muggles might wonder about a bunch of fireworks mid-week, but not on Guy Fawkes' Day. And you know George will want to go all out. He loves a bang, he does." Fred had a delightfully wicked grin on his face, and Hermione laughed.

"Yeah, all right, November fifth is fine, so long as your parents and the lot are fine with it. I assume your Mum will want it to be here as well?" Fred only shrugged at that, so Hermione pressed on. "Attendants? I assumed we'd keep it small, and maybe stick to one each? Ginny for me, and I assume George for you? Harry'll give me away."

"Smashing. Don't see why everyone gets so het up about weddings. Planning seems pretty easy to me." Hermione only rolled her eyes.

"That's because, darling," Hermione said dryly, "you won't be doing most of the planning. Your mum will, no doubt. Nor will you be doing much of the work, I expect."

"Here, now, Hermione! Don't impugn my moral character such! I'll have you know that George and I have extensive plans for the party after." He was grinning at her and she was returning it in full force.

"Not a single one of my guests will be turned into a canary, Fred. Or any avian form. Or any animal form for that matter. Understand me?" She crossed her arms and scowled to appear threatening, but Fred just laughed out loud.

"Mione, it's quite an impressive look. One which I'm certain will frighten our children to pieces, but which has very little affect on me, which you must know from my seventh year." Hermione sighed and joined him on the bed.

"That's true. You two never did listen to me, did you?" She had a sort of wistful smile on her face that made Fred's heart clench for a moment.

"Nah, we did, some. Backed off testing on firsties, didn't we? And you never saw the firewhiskey during the Quidditch parties, did you?" Hermione shook her head, with a smile.

"I know, I was a perfect little prefect swot. I just really wanted to do a good job, and I knew that if you wouldn't listen to me, no one else would. I promise I'm not so bossy anymore." Hermione tucked some stray hair behind her ear. Fred sat up then, leaning nearer to her.

"And I promise we don't test on firsties anymore. Do still drink firewhiskey though." Hermione smiled and Fred leaned closer to her, and she leaned into him and she was kissing him. He let her advance and have some control, but his hand slid up to her shoulder, and she was pulled closer, which meant nearly into his lap. Her arms slid around him, and he let one arm drape loosely around her, but the other was running up and down her arm, then side.

They continued to kiss, the kiss becoming a little more heated, and Fred allowed his hand to drift to Hermione's ribcage, where it stopped just short of her breast, and his lips moved to her neck, just below her jaw. He felt her tense up immediately, but he left his hand where it was and he whispered to her, "Hey, Mione. What is wrong? You tense up every time we snog. I didn't think I was that bad." He pulled her in a little closer, settling her so she was actually sitting on his lap, but sort of cradled in his arms.

"It's just that. . . well. This is so embarrassing. Do we have to talk about this? Lunch should be ready soon. I probably ought to be helping your mum." Her cheeks were stained pink and she avoided looking at him.

"We don't _have_ to talk about it, but I think we should. Since we're going to be married in about five weeks or so, and required to have regular sex, I think we should talk about it. There isn't anything to be embarrassed about." Hermione merely raised an eyebrow at him.

"Well, yeah, all right, I'm embarrassed too, but we're going to have to get over it. I just want to know if there is something I'm doing wrong, because snogging is supposed to be fun, Mione." Fred's voice was gentle, not teasing, and she felt tears come into her eyes. She would never have expected this from him, and this was what she wanted from Ron, but never got. He was always too busy trying to test the boundaries she'd set and whinging about how Lavender used to let him put his hands there. . .

"No. I actually really like kissing you. I'm just afraid of what comes next," she admitted in a very soft voice. Fred pressed a kiss to her temple, and kept his voice low and soothing.

"And what is it that comes next? What has you so worried?"

"Sex. I already told you I'm a virgin. Ugh, it's so stupid. I know how it works, and I know it's not a big thing, really, but . . ." Hermione's voice trailed off.

"But you're nervous. Look, it's not something you should worry about, Mione. It's not a test or anything. And there is a whole world in between snogging and sex." Fred's hand wandered up and down her side, and she was acutely aware of it. "Let me ask you something, yeah?" Hermione nodded. "You've obviously snogged blokes before. How far did that go?"

Hermione fiddled with the hem of Fred's shirt. "Not very. I mean, Viktor and I only kissed a few times. He was very gentlemanly, really. I got the sense he wanted to do a bit more, but it was never a good time and we were always in public. I didn't really date anyone else. I went out with Cormac McLaggen to annoy Ron, but had to spend the whole time dodging his hands. Ugh, he was a terrible kisser too. Very wet." Hermione made a disgusted face, and Fred chuckled.

"And then Ron. Look, I'm not looking for details, I'm just trying to understand, yeah?" Hermione leaned her head against Fred's shoulder. It was more comfortable and she felt more secure that way; safer, even.

"Yes, Ron. It was good with him, I guess. But it was also very odd. We'd been friends for so long and dancing round each other for such a long time that it felt strange to be doing anything remotely intimate. And he didn't want to go slowly at all. He was always trying to push more, and then it was completely unromantic. Because I was always having to push him away or we were fighting about things. And he was constantly telling me what he did with Lavender, which I did not need to know about. What I witnessed was quite enough, mind."

"Yeah, well, Ron's a bloody git, innit he? Hermione, I am never going to make you do something you don't want to do, or aren't ready for, yeah? And I'm not going to compare you to my previous girlfriends. I know this is weird. I feel the same way. But I also really, really enjoy snogging you. I'd really like to do some more of that. And we'll just let it go where it leads. If you feel uncomfortable, just say so. You won't offend me, all right?"

"All right." There was a moment of quiet, during which Hermione contemplated Fred's very kissable lips, and then the door burst open and Ginny and Harry fell into the room, giggling, then stopping short at the sight of the couple on the bed.

"OH. Sorry, ought to have knocked, then," a blushing Harry said, a little too loudly.

Ginny just raised an eyebrow at her friend and then said coolly to her brother, "Oi, Fred. Go snog in your own room, yeah? Really, Hermione, do you have to use my bed? Getting on well, she tells us. We needn't have been worried at all, Harry. I'd say they are definitely getting to know each other." Fred's hand tightened imperceptibly on Hermione's waist, as if asking if she was ok, but she didn't move.

"We were just discussing wedding plans. November fifth work for you lot?" asked Hermione brightly, skipping right over any potentially embarrassing conversation. There was general agreement and then Bill was sticking his head round the door, eying them all with a twinkle and calling them to dinner.

-o0o-

Lunch was a raucous affair, as it always was with so many Weasley's about, and now including many of their significant others too. George was the only one absent, but Angelina came without him at Molly's insistence, only to pretend to ignore Fred's veiled innuendos that caused both Hermione and Angelina to blush. Ron sat sullenly at the end of the table, and went largely ignored after snarling at both Harry and Bill. Hermione sat next to Fred and was aware of his casual touches, as aware as she was of Ron's eyes on her.

At first multiple conversations flowed around them. Percy and Arthur discussed happenings at the Ministry and the frequency with which Arthur, in his new role as head of the Department for Magical Law Enforcement was called away from home, and she heard Bill mention another ward breach at a hospital in Shropshire, while Harry inquired about the break-in at the Montrose Magpies training facility, presumably by fans interested in obtaining actual souvenirs. Much talk centered around Ginny and Harry's upcoming wedding and the planning still left to be done, as well as Kreacher's progress in restoring Grimmauld Place, where they would live. Fleur, Angelina and Ginny were discussing robes for the bridesmaids while Molly kept suggesting another cousin or two and huffing over the color suggestions. Bill and Arthur Weasley carried on a side conversation about the Gringott's rebuilding, while Harry chatted politely with Percy about the new changes in the Ministry and asked his fiancée Penelope about her work at St. Mungo's. In general, it was a happy family gathering, filled with good food and generally good cheer.

When Molly began distributing her apple crumble for dessert and Fleur began pouring tea and coffee, Fred stood up and cleared his throat loudly. "Mother, Father, Brothers, Sisters and assorted family to be – I wanted to let you all know that the lovely Hermione and I have set a date for our nuptial event. As you are all aware, our darling ickle sister Ginevra -" Ginny growled and everyone chuckled. "will be marrying the Boy Who Won't Live Much Longer if He Doesn't Get His Hand Off Her Thigh Right Now-" To which Harry opened his eyes widely, and held both hands aloft in a show of innocence, to another round of laughter. "- in mid-October, so Hermione and I have settled on early November to establish our wedded bliss. November fifth to be precise, provided that is all right with you, Mum and Dad." With that, Fred sat down, and the table exploded in a riot of congratulations and exclamations and then there was a crash as Ron's chair hit the floor, followed by a bang of the kitchen door and then silence.

Bill and Harry both stood up to follow him, but Arthur Weasley motioned for them to sit and stood himself. "Fred, Hermione – I'm so pleased to hear that you are getting on so well. I'm sure Molly has many questions for you. I'm just going to check on Ron." Arthur left and Hermione stared down at her plate, her appetite completely gone. Fred reached around her shoulders and pulled her close to him.

"Well. It sounds like there is a lot of work to do," Molly Weasley broke the silence with a loudly cheerful voice. "Did you want to have the wedding here, dears? The orchard should be just lovely, in the middle of apple season and all. Fall is a beautiful time to have a wedding, you know. Have you thought about attendants yet?" Hermione was still looking down, so Fred answered.

"Yes, Mum, we'd appreciate having it here, if that's all right. We weren't thinking of a large wedding party, just Ginny and George. No offense, mates." He smiled at Bill and Percy. Fleur leaned across the table.

"Hermione, does that mean we can begin looking for your wedding robes this week as well? I think you would look lovely in a sheer lace fabric, non?" Hermione gave her a weak smile and conversation resumed, albeit more subdued than previously. After awhile, Bill challenged Harry and Ginny to Quidditch, which Angelina jumped at and Fred and Percy followed behind. Fleur, Hermione and Penelope were clearing the table, while Molly bustled into the lounge to find the wedding catalogues that Ginny had been using.

The dishes were quickly done and the women were making another round of tea and settling in to discuss the weddings, but Hermione was in no mood. She smiled politely at the women, but said she had a headache and would go outside for a walk to clear her head. It was true enough, her head ached with wanting to cry, and with the confusing swirl of emotions that just never seemed to stop.

Her steps took her absently towards the pond, to the bench she'd sat on during her first conversation with Fred. It was colder now, definitely moving towards winter, but still a lovely fall day. She stared at the greenish water before her and tried to work out everything she was feeling. Opening the door to the emotions she'd kept locked safely away overwhelmed her and her eyes filled with tears she couldn't control. Hermione cried silently, choking on great heaving sobs. She could not have said specifically why, even. It was just a mixture of everything; nervous tension from Ron ignoring her, being upset she'd hurt him, this strange dance with Fred, growing intimacy and comfort and complete disbelief that she was being legally forced into marriage warring inside her, missing her parents and knowing that they were better off not remembering her. She supposed she was tired of feeling lonely and tired of trying to figure out the circles of her thoughts that continued onwards and onwards, of not knowing what would come next.

And she was dead tired of the embarrassment she continually felt in Fred's presence. He disrupted her thoughts, distracted her, sent her body into turmoil. She had trouble being the cool, confident witch she was around others, and it was bloody uncomfortable for her. What was it about him that broke down her defenses and left her vulnerable in front of him? It was driving her insane. Hermione groaned softly and put her wet face in her hands and slumped into a picture of unhappiness. It was a few minutes before she became aware of a presence approaching behind her. The last thing she needed was more embarrassment. Giving herself another moment to steady herself, she wiped her eyes again, conjured a handkerchief to blow her nose and then turned to find a frowning Fred striding towards her.

He looked down at her, eyebrows creased and then straddled the bench to face her. "Hey, I've been looking for you. They said you had a headache. Have you been crying?" His voice was filled with concern. _Of course_ it was Fred who found her. Naturally.

"Yes, I had a good cry. I needed one." Hermione's voice was short and tense, and she turned away to avoid looking at him.

Fred eyed her a little warily. Crying witches had never been something he'd dealt well with, Merlin knew, and this witch crying was bloody unnerving. "Right, okay then. Do you want me to go and leave you be, or do you want me to stay?"

Hermione sighed, her head ached. "You can stay if you like, Fred."

"Do you want to discuss it? Is there anything I can help with?" Fred had a grim sort of determined look on his face.

"I'm just tired and overwhelmed, Fred. This is all just too much sometimes. I don't want Ron to hate me. I don't want you to hate me."

Fred moved to sit closer to her. "Budge up here, Granger."

Hermione huffed, but complied. Fred pulled her against his chest, and she sat stiffly for a moment, but he did nothing else, just offered her comfort and slowly she relaxed into him, a few more tears trailing down her face. The ball of tension she'd carried out with her slowly unwound, as she rested securely in Fred's arms. He was undemanding, simply hugging her close to him. After awhile, he began to speak in a low, soft voice that Hermione heard rumble through his chest.

"Ron doesn't hate you, Hermione. He's angry and he's disappointed, but he doesn't hate you. Dad will talk some sense into him. His pouting has been going on too long as it is. You've every right to decide your life as best you can. He doesn't understand it now, but he will eventually understand that you were doing the right thing for both of you. From what Bill's told me, Ron's coming around some already. He's met up with Daphne several times, and they seem to get on all right. She apparently likes wizards chess, and that is a good start, considering it's Ron." Fred was quiet for a bit, and Hermione sniffled once or twice.

"Hermione, I don't hate you. I won't hate you. I know this is overwhelming, being required to marry someone you don't know very well. But apart from being told we are compatible, we are friends. We at least have something to build on, which is easier than others. And we get on all right. We'll make things work."

The pair sat quietly for awhile until they were disturbed by Angelina's voice yelling for them. She seemed agitated. "THERE you are. I've been looking everywhere. George just sent his patronus, he needs you back at the shop, Fred." Hermione sat up and Fred stood quickly.

"What's the matter?" It was rare for either of them to interrupt what time they took off, and it sent a thrill of fear through Fred.

"Apparently someone's made some sort of mess, and you know Verity isn't about today." Angelina rolled her eyes a bit. "I'm headed over, but you know I'm utter rubbish when it comes to helping out."

Fred laughed briefly, evidently recalling an instance of Angelina's attempts to help, and then turned to Hermione, who was still seated on the bench. "You want to come with me? We can have dinner at the flat with George and Angelina, which is something we all like to do rather often. Granted supper won't be until seven or so, but I could at least show you the work room in more detail if you're going to start brewing with us tomorrow. It might be nice to spend some more time together." Fred realized he was rambling and that Angelina was watching with unconcealed amusement, and rubbed the back of his neck. "It's ok if you'd rather not, but . . ." Fred's voice trailed off and now Hermione seemed to be trying not to smile.

"No, I'd love to. Really." She stood up. "So, to the flat then?"

"Yeah, soon as we say goodbye to everyone," Fred answered. "See you there, Angie? Tell him we're on our way."

"Righto." Angie turned and disappeared with a pop.

Fred turned back to Hermione, and touched her cheek. "You going to be all right, Mione?" She gave him a small, watery smile, and nodded. Fred cupped her cheek for a moment longer, before Hermione took his hand in hers and gave it a squeeze.

"Thank you," she said in a small voice.

"No. Don't thank me. I'm always here if you need me, Mione." He looked so serious, it sent a pang to her heart. "Come along now, we've got to say good-bye to Mum so we can go help Georgie." His voice was suddenly cheerful, though it didn't quite reach his thoughtful eyes.

-o0o-

There was glass all over the floor, and the front window display was completely shot through. Fred's jaw dropped open a bit as he looked at it. George had a cut on his cheek and was clearly in a foul mood, and the remaining customers weren't lingering long. Angelina was out of sight and it didn't take long before Hermione, Fred and George were alone in the wreckage.

"What the bloody hell happened?" Fred asked when he found his voice. Angelina returned with a bottle Fred recognized as ointment and Hermione was frowning at the broken window.

George practically growled, "I don't fucking know. Ow! Angie!" He drew his breath sharply through his teeth as she applied the astringent ointment.

"Don't be such a baby, George," she said sternly. "That cut has to be healed properly. You said it was no big deal. From the looks of it, you could've been hit in the head! Leave that on for two minutes and then come upstairs and I'll heal it." She gave him an aggravated look, and took the potion back upstairs.

"Right. Might as well close down then. It'll take us at least two hours to get this reset, and there won't be anyone to watch the store." Fred was frowning as well.

"Can I help at all?" Hermione asked timidly.

"Certainly you can, but it'll take George and me together to get this back right. Least until you're more familiar with the products." Fred sighed. "Seems something came through here." He indicated the window and turned to look behind him, where sure enough, a large piece of stone had overturned a display of animal-transfiguration sweets and busted a few vials of Wonder Witch products that Hermione couldn't place.

"Caught that did you?" George's voice was tired, taking the sting out of his harsh words.

"You were standing here?" Fred's jaw clinched and his eyes narrowed a bit.

"I'd just turned to usher a pair of witches towards the front, and the rock flew right past my head, followed by glass. I looked but couldn't see anyone."

"Someone did this deliberately?" Hermione squeaked.

"Probably just kids," Fred said in a low voice. "It's happened elsewhere on the Alley, you know."

"Do kids often run about unsupervised?" Hermione asked with a trace of acid in her tone.

"Not so much anymore, true, but it doesn't mean it was deliberate," George said appeasingly. "Just last week, Tom at the Leaky had a wizard crash through his front window. Try explaining that repair to the Muggles."

Angelina appeared at the blue door to the back. "George! You want that cut healed or not?" George grimaced, but made his way over to his fiancée.

Fred stepped around the glass to the front door, locked it and used his wand to change the sign from flashing 'Open' to flashing 'Closed' before eying the glass and the display, and shaking his head.

"Can't set the wards until that window is repaired, damn it." Fred muttered to himself.

"What's wrong?" Hermione had been thinking hard, but realized he was arguing with himself.

"We've got to replace the window before I can set the wards in place. Trying to think whether we have anything that we can transfigure or whether I've got to go down to Littleton's for a new piece of glass."

Hermione looked blank for a moment before realizing. "Right. The broken shards of glass with the potions are mixed so a _reparo_ won't work because of the potential reactivity. Best to vanish some of this mess then. All right with you?"

Fred nodded, and Hermione withdrew her wand, and began carefully casting _evanesco_ at the debris. By the time George returned, there was no more glass on the ground, and the remains of the ruined display had been removed from the window. Fred was cursing under his breath, because he was unable to find anything appropriate to transfigure.

George eyed up the situation and said grimly, "Trip to Littleton's then? Right. Fantastic bleeding day this has been." He shrugged irritably out of his robes and returned to the workroom to hang them up, where he and Angie exchanged a few quiet words, and he came back with a tight smile on his face.

"Right, Angie and I are going to go over then. You two stay here. Fred, why don't you show Mione how we keep the store-room and where to find the recipe books? We're definitely going to need to brew love potions this week." He shook his head again, and left with Angie.

Fred looked at Hermione, shrugged, and said, "I don't feel very comfortable going in back just now, sorry."

"I don't blame you," Hermione said. "I wouldn't either. I'll just redo this display then, shall I?"

Fred quickly stepped over. "Oh, you don't need to do that!" he said quickly.

"But I can. Really, Fred, it's no trouble. Let me be useful, yeah?" He stepped back and watched as she deftly reorganized the display of transfiguring sweets and he began to consider the display window. The only good thing about this is that it was about time to change their display anyhow. Hermione interrupted his thoughts.

"Is this all right then?" She indicated the display.

"Picture perfect. Thanks. I guess it's time for the reusable hang-man to make a reappearance," Fred mused. "And if we're doing games, might as well put out the mini-quidditch set for the animation, and maybe display some of the self-tying rope tricks."

Hermione leaned against the shelf and watched him intently while he muttered to himself, clearly trying to lay out the new display in his mind. This continued for about five minutes before Fred realized she was watching him, her head cocked to the side. The tips of his ears grew pink.

"Er, sorry. Got a bit involved."

"Clearly," Hermione said with a twitch of a smile showing.

"Right, well, I won't be able to finalize anything until George comes back. So. Might as well make ourselves comfortable." Fred waved his wand and an oversized plush armchair appeared, taking up the entire aisle. He plopped down into it and raised an eyebrow challengingly at Hermione.

"Really, Fred?" she asked, eyebrow quirked. He only grinned at her, and she sighed and settled herself gingerly in his lap, each of them claiming a corner of the chair.

"Not so bad now, is it?" Fred asked with a chuckle, settling his arm comfortably around Hermione.

"I suppose not," she replied, and then fell quiet again.

"Sickle for your thoughts?" Fred asked gently. Hermione frowned a bit.

"I doubt very much that they are worth more than a knut or two. I was just thinking about how comfortable I feel around you."

"And that causes a frown? I tell you, Mione, you do wonders for my ego." There was a bit of an edge beneath his amused tone.

"No, no. It's just . . . it scares me some how comfortable I am with you. I feel like, in many ways, I barely know you. You said earlier that we're friends and have something to build on, which is true. But there are so many little things that I simply don't know. I wonder how I can feel so drawn to you when I don't even know the most basic sorts of things." She stopped fiddling with her hem and looked up at him, a crease between her brows.

"That's reasonable. What is it you want to know, Mione? I'll answer any question you want to ask. Open book and all that. But only if you agree to do the same." Hermione quirked an eyebrow at him, but nodded her agreement. "You go first, then."

"All right. Ummm. What's your favorite color?"

"Honestly? Blue. Just about any shade of blue. It's one of the few colors that doesn't clash with the Weasley red hair. And yours?"

"Red, actually. I suppose it's because I look good in most reds. I really like how cheerful and warm it is as well." They were quiet for a moment. "What is your favorite food?"

"Now that is a hard question to answer, when there are so many possibilities."

"Come on, that's avoiding. What would you eat if you could only eat one thing?"

"Forever? I'm not sure life is worth living with only one food. I suppose though, if you held me at wand point, I'd say shepherd's pie with a chocolate gateau for afters." He winked at Hermione and she chuckled. "And you?"

"Not fair for me to answer all the questions I ask, you've got to come up with the next. But because you asked, I suppose it would quiche. Florentine, that is, you know, with the spinach? And lemon tart for dessert."

"How very un-British of you," Fred said. "I thought you liked chocolates?"

"Oh, I do. But I figured that if you eat chocolate gateau every night and I eat lemon tart, I can fulfill my desires with a bite of yours." Fred threw back his head and laughed, and Hermione grinned at him.

"Right, then. Logicked out as only you could do. So, my turn, yeah?" Hermione nodded, her eyes shining with good humor for the first time that day. "This is a bit more serious, then. What is your biggest fear?"

Hermione was quiet a moment, thoughtful. "Failure. I fear failing. At anything. Failing my NEWTs, never having a good career or being able to support myself, being a bad friend, and now wife, and never making anything worthwhile of myself."

Fred wanted to say something, to reassure her, she looked so vulnerable right now, but he settled for laying his hand on her cheek briefly. She gave him a brief smile, and he tightened his grip. "And what is your greatest fear?"

Fred paled a bit, and his lips tightened. "I, um, it has to do with what happened when that wall collapsed, I guess." Hermione's lips formed a perfect 'o' but no sound escaped her mouth. Before she could say anything, George called out from in front of the shop, through the broken window.

"Oi, lazy sod, open up the door so we can get this fixed properly!" Hermione hopped up as if she'd been scalded, blushing brightly, while Fred gave her an apologetic look and opened the door with a flick of his wand. George levitated the large pane of glass through the front door and left it hovering above the display shelf. "Excellent. Fred, will you do the honors? You're better at repairs than me." He turned to Hermione, with a wink and a grin and said in an aside, "It's because he so often was breaking things he got the practice."

Fred gave his brother a glare, but turned his attention back to the window. He frowned in concentration, and guided the pane of glass gently into place and then with a murmured string of incantations, the window was sealed in place, good as new. Hermione watched quietly as Fred cast some additional charms over it, before George touched her shoulder.

"He'll set the wards, and then we'll get started on the display. Did he show you round properly?" he asked, with a far more cheerful attitude than he'd previously had. The cut on his cheek was gone, and it seemed the walk had done him some good.

"Er, no. He didn't want to leave the shop unattended before he could set the wards again. Where's Angelina?"

"Oh, she went on to the market to pick up things for dinner and will floo straight back upstairs. She said you're staying for dinner?"

Hermione nodded, feeling a little awkward.

"Good, we've been wanting to have you round for awhile. Fred and I, well, we've always been together. And Angie was our friend from first year, so it was pretty natural for all of us to spend time with each other, even after Angie and I got together. We, Angie and I, that is, hoped that whoever Fred was matched with would be someone who could understand that." George looked down, his ears turning red, as Fred's did.

Hermione touched his arm and smiled at him. "George, of course. I'm really looking forward to it. I am glad for the chance to get to know Angelina better. We never had much opportunity in school."

George smiled at her in a grateful sort of way, and she could sense how relieved he was. She thought about that for a moment, how odd it must be to suddenly have a fourth person in their little intimate group, but she supposed that was always going to have happened eventually anyway.

She heard a voice behind her, one that sounded pleased and amused. "What, I can't leave you alone with my handsome identical twin for even a moment before you are overcome with attraction for him?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes, Fred, that's precisely how it is. I'm lusting after George even as I speak, you'll have to be certain never to leave us alone or goodness only knows what will happen. Now, you said you would show me round, and that you need some love potions brewed?"

"Yes, but I hadn't expected that you would brew this afternoon. You don't even have a work robe." Fred's forehead creased in a frown.

"It's fine, really. I'd like to be of some use. Otherwise, what will I do all afternoon while you work on that display? If you don't want me to work on love potions, I'm sure there is something else I can start. Surely you have a set of robes I could borrow?"

George was the one who ended the slight disagreement. "Go on, Fred. Show her round, yeah? If she's going to be helping out, you can't be shy about ordering her about. I would think, after all the bossing about she did as a prefect you'd be eager to get your own back." He gave Hermione a large wink and a grin, so she laughed helplessly, rather than getting angry and Fred smiled as well.

"Right then, back this way." Fred offered his arm to Hermione and she took it with a genuine smile that reached to her eyes.

"Lead the way then."

_A/N: Deathly Hallows p. 1 premiered in Britain this week; I know I'm looking forward to seeing it soon! Unfortunately, work is drowning me and I've not had much time to write, so I need to play catch up. __Consequently, I expect the next update will be delayed; hopefully not by too much time! __I do hope you enjoyed this, it went through several revisions and I'm quite pleased with the final result. _


	5. Chapter 5

_Per the usual, the disclaimer: As always, this world was not created by and is not owned by me. I simply revel in playing with it for a bit._

-o0o-

_Chapter 5_

-o0o-

The next week and a half passed more peacefully than Hermione had expected. She floo'd to the flat above the shop every day, about mid-morning before the shop opened, and made tea for the twins, which they shared before making her way down to the workroom. Both Fred and George spent some time with her, explaining their potions and the steps they took with some of them. She quickly became acquainted with their base potions and was brewing some of the simpler stock potions to help them catch up by the third day. She had yet to see them do any of the layered charms, but Fred had promised to show her the Skiving Snack-box potions when she returned from the robe-shopping excursion that was taking place this morning, and George had offered to show her his prototypes for the contained jinxes he was working on to get her feedback. It was brilliant, challenging work, and she felt exhilarated to be doing something so stimulating again.

And the tension that had built up with Fred was fading away. They often talked as they worked together in the back room, conversation flowing on all sorts of topics, both work related and personal. They had taken to eating lunch together every day, and she had stayed for dinner four times, all a repetition of the Sunday evening with George and Angelina, which was laid back and fun. Hermione was enjoying her time in the shop, and seeing this more measured side of Fred and George. True to his word, Fred had not been demanding of her in any way, allowing her to take the lead in many aspects of their developing relationship, but he was always there, always reaching out to touch her reassuringly, give her a wink or a grin, make a joke, pull her in for a quick hug or kiss. Hermione enjoyed his attention, and enjoyed the nearly careless way he was showering her with affection. It was genuine, not calculated, without pressure. She found she was looking forward more and more to the time she spent at the shop.

And the time she spent away from it was getting better as well. Ron had stopped glaring at her, and had even muttered a polite thank-you when she passed him butter for his rolls the other night. A small thing but one that made Hermione feel hopeful, even more so when Harry told her Ron was planning to bring Daphne to the next Sunday dinner, so everyone could meet her.

Hermione was even beginning to get interested in the wedding plans, especially with Ginny's wedding now only ten days away. Molly had taken the time to explain the three most common types of wizarding ceremonies and after talking more with Fred over a cauldron of bruise healing paste, they had agreed on a modern handfasting, with the newly required binding, attraction and fidelity spells. Percy had come by the shop one day and had volunteered to perform the ceremony, in his capacity as a Ministry official and Fred had agreed to it with an oddly twisted expression on his face. That time, Hermione sought out Fred's hand for a squeeze, which brought a grateful smile to his face.

And now, having decided on the important points, though Fred was calling out from his bedroom while he changed and Hermione waited in the lounge that the cake was _too_ an important point, Hermione was off with the Weasley women to look for robes. Both for her bridesmaid's robes and for her wedding robes.

Fred came into the lounge wearing his typical work attire of button down shirt and pressed trousers, his magenta shop robes slung over his arm, and Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "Fred, your mum is going to bake the cake, so you know it will be perfectly divine. I don't care whether it's lemon or chocolate or strawberry, so choose what you like and there! Cake is taken care of. What we have to talk about before I leave are colors, or it will be rather pointless to try and find Ginny appropriate dress robes."

"Well, if it's colors you want to discuss, you have certainly come to the right chap. I'm very good with colors, you know." He waggled his eyebrows in exaggeration and held up the arms with the robes. "Chose these myself, I did." He was teasing Hermione who had flatly refused to wear the hideous magenta robes, opting instead to bring over her own black work robes for when she was brewing.

"Fred, you told me on Monday that George chose the robes. And I know that his favorite color is pink. Angelina ratted him out when we were discussing wedding details, which is why Ginny is so upset and still trying to talk Angie into silver with pink flowers. So, do you want to help or no? Because this is going to be tasteful if it kills me." She levelled a mock-glare at him that sent him flopping down in the armchair nearest her, hand to his heart.

"I can't believe what I'm hearing, from my own sweet Hermione's lips! She thinks we have no taste, brother." Fred called to George, who had just emerged from his bedroom dressed only in pajama bottoms and blearily walked to the kitchen in search of tea, which Hermione had waiting for him.

"I would be outraged, Forge, but I'm too grateful for the tea. Hermione, you are a goddess, and I've no idea how we lived without you making the morning tea. Sure you don't want to ditch Fred and run away with me?"

"Oi, George, I heard that!" came a muffled voice from his room, and Angelina followed behind him, fully dressed and ready for their shopping trip. "You'll spoil him rotten if you keep making his tea for him, Hermione, and then where will I be? He'll be a lost, helpless puppy when I'm away overnight with matches." The wink she gave Hermione was friendly and she laughed, while George merely looked hurt.

"Angie, it's a good thing you can cook, is all I'll say," Fred chimed in before turning back to Hermione. "Come on downstairs and help me open up, love and we'll talk colors to your heart's desire, and leave the lovebirds to fight it out." He shrugged into his robe, and tugged at her hand, and she followed him downstairs. At the foot of the stairs, he turned suddenly and swept her up into a great hug, and gave her a resounding smack on the lips. "Is it crazy to say I'm going to miss you today?" His tone was teasing, but his face was serious.

"A little, yes. But I'll be in this afternoon after lunch with the girls, all right?"

Fred brushed her hair out of her face and kissed her forehead. "Yeah, all right. Listen, Mione, I want to ask you something, but I don't know how you'll feel about it." He looked down at her with a face of complete sincerity.

"Fred, you can ask anything. Open book, remember?" Hermione referred to the agreement they'd made that first day at the shop, which had carried over during their times alone. It had been useful as an icebreaker, and she now knew that Fred preferred raspberry jam, that he had been thinking of buying a familiar, but wasn't sure what sort of animal he liked best, and that his favorite book was Advanced Magical Theory, which was an arithmancy text.

He, in his stead, had learned she preferred orange marmalade, they agreed on Earl Grey over English Breakfast, she dearly missed Crookshanks and wanted another kneazle mix if she got another familiar, and she loved _Pride and Prejudice_, which was some Muggle book, at least as much as _Hogwarts, A History._ It had been mostly trivial information shared, but the growing comfort they both had with asking questions was helping them feel more comfortable generally.

Fred sighed a bit. "It's not that sort of question, though. But I'll ask, so long as you promise to think about it. You don't have to agree. You won't hurt my feelings. But I would like for you to really think about it." He gave her a reassuring squeeze. She licked her lips nervously, but nodded her agreement. "George is going over to Angie's parents, then to her flat for the night. I'd like for you to stay the night. Not," he hastened to add on seeing her expression, "to shag. Just because it's the first chance we've had to be alone and really talk in awhile. Only, just think about it."

His tone was light and suggestive, and Hermione felt a lurch in her stomach, and nodded. Fred lightly touched his lips to hers again, and released her to enter the shop. She followed him to the point of the till and hopped onto the stool there while Fred checked the stock, made his notes and then began removing the wards and enchantments they set each night to protect the shop. Hermione wasn't usually down here early enough to see the wards lowered, but she had watched them set and it was fascinating how complex they were. Watching Fred's concentration was secretly appealing to her, this side of him she'd not been privy to before was one she liked a great deal. Fred brightened the room from the dusky low-light to full brightness with a wave of his wand, animated the sections of the store that were in constant motion with another wave and finally flipped the sign from CLOSED to OPEN, then bowed with a flourish as Hermione politely applauded, having been caught staring.

"So when does the coven descend, Granger?" he asked, leaning against the counter as he had during her first visit.

"Not very polite, Weasley, and impolitic too, considering I'll be choosing your wedding attire today." Hermione raised an eyebrow at him in challenge.

"Ah, but you forget – I'm happy to wear any color, even pink. You're the one who said it had to be tasteful." He smirked at her, but she just smiled blandly back.

"Ah, yes, but tasteful doesn't necessarily preclude restrictive, nor does it exclude finding you a replica of Snape's favorite bat-like robes." She fluttered her eyelashes charmingly.

"My darling Hermione, I'd no idea you were interested in the greasy git. If you want to dress me up as him on our wedding day, who am I to object? Sadly though, my regular use of shampoo will interfere with your fantasies, I fear."

Hermione shook her head. It was no use trying to intimidate him, he always turned it back round on her, which was utterly infuriating.

"Fine. No bat-capes for you. But what about colors? And robes? I was thinking, since we'll be marrying in the orchard in November, maybe fall colors would be nice. Brown or gold maybe? I had been thinking green, but that's what Ginny's planning to use now. She would look lovely in the right shade of brown."

Fred cocked his head and considered. "If you are serious, I suppose it could work. Not mud brown though. Needs to be a bit more colorful than that – we do have a reputation to maintain, you know, and George won't wear brown. He finds it too dull. How about a dark blue for us?"

Hermione had an amused look on her face. "Yes, that should be fine. Navy blue, perhaps? Did you want traditional robes or dress robes?"

"Oh, dress robes, please. I hate traditional robes. Bloody uncomfortable and feels like wearing a dress. Never could understand how Dumbledore liked them."

"Right then. Navy dress robes for you and George. And brown for Ginny. And you want some color, so I'll work on it. Er, don't forget, you'll need to choose your cords for the ceremony soon. I left a list of the meanings on the table upstairs. And, er. . ." Hermione paused.

"Yes, Hermione?" Fred raised an eyebrow. She was getting better about being more direct with him, at least until she became embarrassed.

"We haven't talked about rings, but we will have to go shopping soon, because Percy has to check them over and imbue them with the preparatory spells for the binding."

"Sure, 'snot a problem. We'll just head over to the jeweler's at lunch one day. George and I have a distributor we've begun working with in preparations for a line of defensive pieces." Hermione was biting her lip, her telling sign of worry. Fred leaned closer, nudging her arm with his, patiently stating, "Mione, you're working yourself up over something, but I can't help you if I don't know what it is."

"The rings. It's just. . . I haven't any money, Fred. I haven't been working, you know, and I used up nearly all my savings during the hunt and will probably spend the rest today on the wedding robes, so I don't know how I can afford the ring for you. I feel so terrible, Harry's already paying for my bridesmaids robes and Ginny's robes for our wedding, I couldn't ask him for any more."

Fred's face softened, and he picked up Hermione's hand and kissed it gently. "Hermione, we never talked about it, but I'll take care of everything for the wedding. I've got piles of galleons, you know. In fact, I need to have them key you into my vault, so you can get whatever you need."

She sighed stubbornly though. "It isn't right, Fred. You shouldn't pay for our wedding. Especially the ring."

Fred stood up and looked down at Hermione thoughtfully. "Don't be silly, Hermione. The gold's just going to sit there. No reason not to pay for the wedding and anything else. Once we're married, that belongs to both of us, and there's no reason not to use it for us now." There was a jingle at the door announcing someone, which turned out to be Verity, who pulled on her robes as she entered. She called a cheerful good morning and immediately set to tending the Pygmy Puffs and straightening the Wonder Witch displays.

"I just hate feeling so dependent. It's going to be ages before I can contribute anything." Hermione looked somewhat dejected.

"Hermione, you're contributing already. Remember how you've been coming in every day? Catching us up? Remember how I'm going to show you snack-boxes today? That's contributing in a big way. George has already made progress on his little project just because he didn't have to do the healing pastes and boil removers. If it'll make you feel better, we'll pay you a regular salary, you're certainly earning it. Should've worked this out already," he muttered, running his hands through his hair, the

faintest trace of exasperation in his voice.

She felt stung by that exasperation, that her wish to be useful and independent would annoy him. She opened her mouth to argue, but realized it really wouldn't matter after they were married. Bonded couples were never granted separate vaults by Gringott's, being seen as a single entity. She closed her mouth and pursed her lips.

"Oi, Mione don't make that face. It makes me want to kiss you very thoroughly right here, which could be terribly scandalous." His voice was gentle, he was trying to tease her away from a bad mood, and she let him this time. She was going out shopping soon, for their wedding, and needed to be good company.

"Mmmm. Well, there is no one about but Verity, and as she isn't looking right now . . ." Hermione leaned towards Fred seductively, then moved her head at the last moment to kiss his cheek. Then she winked at him, and smiled brightly.

"You, Madam Granger, are a tease," Fred said matter of factly, but he was smiling again. He rested a hand on her forearm and said quietly, "I mean it, Hermione. What I have is yours. In fact, come with me a mo." He disappeared into the workroom, and she followed to see him reappear moments later with an empty bag in his hands, calling to Verity to watch the register. "This, Hermione, is an endless moneybag, linked to my vault at Gringott's. Once I set it to recognize your voice, you can withdraw funds. We'll still have to go to Gringott's to key you into the vault itself, but at least this way, you'll be covered for today, yeah?" Reluctantly, she nodded her agreement. She watched as he reconfigured the security spell to recognize her with some amazement.

"I thought you had to work for the bank to learn that."

"Yes, well, it helps to have a brother who does that doesn't hold his firewhiskey as well as you. He's a bonded employee, so he can't spill all their secrets but he was able to tell us enough for us to figure it out."

Hermione just shook her head, and Fred explained how the bag worked. It was not long before George and Angelina came down from the flat, George looking far more awake and slightly smug, Angelina looking rumpled. She merely shrugged when Fred raised his eyebrow and cast a charm to straighten and press her clothes. Hermione's eyes met Fred's and crinkled in a shared mirth. His hand reached for hers and she gave it to him freely.

Angelina and Hermione didn't have to wait terribly long, as the Weasley party entered the shop soon after. There were greetings all around, George showed Molly the newest inventions, while Fred flirted outrageously with Fleur at the register. In the hugs and kisses of good-bye, Fred whispered "Please, please be careful today. And, think about it; tonight, I mean." and Hermione nodded. She wasn't sure she'd be able to get it off her mind; but then they were all trooping down the Alley to Madam Malkin's.

-o0o-

For as little as Ginny and Hermione could be considered excessively interested in fashion, this trip was filled with girlish peals of laughter and giggles. Fleur kept offering suggestive tips on lingerie for the brides to be, along with thinly veiled advice on seduction, which Molly kept pretending not to hear. Angelina and Ginny were engaged in teasing about their respective Quidditch teams, and Luna was vaguely entertaining with her completely inappropriate questions to all of the women present regarding their sex lives. Hermione caught her eye once after she asked Fleur whether Bill became more animalistic during the full moon, and instead of the vacant look she'd anticipated, she saw a distinctively mischievous gleam in Luna's eye, followed by a tiny wink. Fleur had only tossed her silvery hair behind her and smirked, while Ginny and Angelina giggled and Molly loudly cleared her throat.

They began by wondering around the bridal and formal robes section of the shop, which was fortunately apart from the main section, so they weren't bombarded by a crowd. Madame Malkin bustled in and out, and left an attendant with them, but for the most part, they simply held up various robes and giggled over the more outrageous choices. Fleur seemed to be the most serious, flipping through the racks and using her wand to levitate certain robes up for full inspection, amassing a small pile for the brides-to-be to select from, many of which Molly tutted over. After awhile of looking, the girls gathered onto low, comfortable divans to wait for Ginny to model her top choices.

In the end, Ginny was firm in wanting something sleeker and more modern than the Victorian-style robes her mother had kept thrusting at her, and with Fleur to back her up, she eventually selected the palest blue satin robes with long fitted sleeves and a small train, that fastened low at the waist over a slinky, strapless white silk under-dress, with crystal details on the bust that sparkled. She looked radiant in it, with just the hint of blue setting off the fiery red of her hair. Aunt Muriel had again promised to loan out her famous tiara, and Molly, blinking back tears, told Ginny that she had just the necklace from Grandmother Prewett to set it off.

All the women were sniffling by the time Ginny had changed, and Ginny threatened that if they didn't stop and made her cry in turn, then she was going to force them all to wear Chudley Cannon Orange, and she meant it. They all started laughing and the mood was again light and happy. Ginny turned over the final modeling and selection of bridesmaid robes to Fleur and her mum, whispering to Hermione that she just wanted to see the fight, which sent them into fits of giggles. After comparisons of multiple shades of green, Molly won out on the color – a soft leaf green – but Fleur won out on the style, for which all the other girls were thankful; Molly's choice had been just a bit out-dated. Each girl was handed one of the robes and measured in turn while Madame Malkin herself noted down the alterations to the strapless ankle length dress robes.

And then it was Hermione's turn to look for wedding robes, and she was quickly overwhelmed with advice from all the women present. She'd not given much thought to her robes, really, beyond wanting to look well in them. After flipping through a couple of style books, and taking everyone's advice into account, Hermione chose a handful of styles to try. She felt a little ridiculous as the assistant helped her into the first set of robes, a full skirted Victorian number. She stepped out of the dressing room and there were oooohs and aaaaahs, and she blushed. Fleur was shaking her head though and after Hermione had twirled for everyone's benefit, Fleur convinced her to try on the next set, which she had urged on Hermione.

Hermione was unsure about this set until she put on the flowing silvery-white under-dress with a high waist and thin straps. She liked the way it looked, but when the attendant helped her fasten the creamy lace robes over it, she felt, well, _pretty_. The robe was primarily lace, with sleeves fitted to the elbow and finished with a flounce of lace. The robe had a high open collar with sharp points, fastened just below her bust and was cut away like a coat to reveal the under-dress. The lace train dragged just a bit, making her feel taller and more regal. She knew as soon as she stepped out of the dressing room and saw Fleur's satisfied smile and tears in Molly and Ginny Weasley's eyes that these would be her wedding robes. Angelina gave her a wolf-whistle and Hermione blushed.

It was short work from there to find a silver and crystal tiara for Hermione to wear, and strappy silver shoes. Molly gave her a large, motherly hug and said she had beautiful goblin-made silver earrings from Arthur's great-aunt that would look stunning if Hermione wanted them, which caused her tear up again and hug Molly again. Hermione returned to the dressing room, and looked at herself again in the mirror, and flattened her hands over the waist of the robes. She would be wearing this in just a few weeks, when she would be permanently bound to Fred Weasley. It was suddenly a breathtaking proposition, more exciting than full of dread as it had been. This bit of time she'd been able to spend with him was easing her largest concerns about the match. He was a good wizard, and a surprisingly considerate one, and had gone well out of his way to make things as easy as possible for her. Still, she only felt as if she were beginning to know him well.

An image of him from this morning arose, as he looked down at her seriously and asked her to consider staying over. She just shook her head and thought back to his proposal. She was tempted, but also unsure. What if, despite his words, he really did expect that she would sleep with him? She scolded herself for the thought – Fred had been nothing but respectful of her desires. Nevertheless, there was a niggle of fear that if she stayed the entire night, it might change. After all, where would they sleep? Probably in his bed. At the same time, they'd be married in roughly a month, and she would be staying there full time. Maybe a trial run wasn't such a bad idea. It was true she had no knowledge of Fred's daily personal habits, and it was a disconcerting realization She had no idea if he snored or if he was a cover-thief or, well, she had no idea about anything, really. Any fears she had about pressure for intimacy or what he might sleep in were pushed aside by the idea that this was the best way to get to know this man, to see him as he was by himself, as she could most often expect to see him. Making up her mind, she poked her head out of the dressing and called Ginny in to help her change, the attendant having been commandeered by Molly and Fleur to show them formal men's robes.

Ginny came in and as she helped Hermione undress, Hermione filled her in on Fred's request. Ginny perked up considerably at the news. "I need your help, Ginny. I don't have anything of mine at the flat yet, and I promised I'd go back to the shop to help this afternoon. Could you please pack a small overnight bag for me? Something to wear this evening, something to sleep in and a change of clothes for tomorrow? And my shower things? I'm going to want to shower after I brew, I always do."

"Of course. Are you sure you want something to sleep in though?" Ginny asked the question in an overly innocent voice and Hermione just rolled her eyes.

"Yes, I'm quite certain, Ginevra. It's not like that. In fact, I'll probably sleep on the couch. It's just, well, I don't know much about how he is, and we're going to be living together soon. I don't even know if he snores or what he wears to bed or anything." Hermione looked as if she were working herself up to tears.

"Yeah, all right, don't throw a wobbly, it's going to be fine, yeah? I'm sorry I teased you, I know it's a stressful situation for you. I can tell you though that he doesn't snore, George does. So you don't have to sleep on the couch, if that's what you're worried about."

"It's not, and you know it," Hermione sighed and looked down.

"Well, from what you've told me, he's been a disgustingly perfect gentleman, unlike your last boyfriend, so I'm not sure what you are concerned about. You shouldn't be concerned anyway, it's only sex, Hermione. Most people really enjoy it, you know." Ginny hung up Hermione's robes with a flick of her wand and Hermione pulled her jumper back on.

"I know. I would think he wasn't attracted to me, if he didn't keep telling me he was." Hermione gave a frustrated sigh and looked fiercely at her reflection as she tried to straighten her hair again.

"Oh, trust me, Mione, he's interested. You don't see him watch you. But he does. George says he's surprised by how well you and Fred are doing. And George would know if Fred didn't fancy you, and he wouldn't be shy about telling me. Your hair looks fine, Hermione, leave it be. Now come on and let's find my robes, shall we? I will pack a bag and leave it at the flat this afternoon, and I'll even make up a story for Mum."

Having not thought at all about what she would tell Molly Weasley, Hermione was eminently grateful, and expressed it by giving her friend a huge hug. Then they left the dressing room and scoured the formal robes looking for something for Ginny. Hermione was pleased to find a high-waisted, loose skirted dress robe similar to her own that Ginny approved off. Once they were assured it could be charmed to Hermione's color specification of a deep chocolate brown, and a bright red ribbon added to the high waist, it was Hermione's turn to pick out formal robes for the twins. For this, she relied on Angelina's knowledge of Fred and George and they chose dress robes that were vaguely tuxedo-like in appearance in a lovely navy blue, with red accents for George, and cream and silver for Fred, to match Hermione's dress.

Luna departed from the group not long after, saying she had to return to set the inkpress for the weekend edition, but gave each of them a big hug and genuine smile before departing. The remaining girls then united to urge Molly to buy new formal robes for herself, at their treat, since so many of her children would be marrying. She resisted at first, but Fleur refused to back down, and Ginny begged and soon they had all the fun of dressing up the mother of the bride and grooms. Fleur allowed her her more Victorian sensibilities, but refused to let her choose the matronly tans and beiges Molly was selecting and instead insisted on a bright color palette. Hermione watched in amusement as Fleur insisted she try on a set of cherry red robes over Molly's loud protests, only to see her looking rosy-cheeked and younger and pleased with herself. She refused to buy those, claiming they were far too young and inappropriate for the mother of the wedding couple, but did consent to try others, and eventually settled on a pretty cornflower blue.

After all the necessary undergarments and accessories were added to the pile of purchases, they each paid their portions and were told to return in three hours for the altered clothes. They left the shop laughing and in high spirits and wandered down to the Leaky Cauldron, where Fleur had arranged a private room upstairs for the party. Over lunch, there was more giggling and detailed discussions of floral arrangements, marquees, and centerpieces, while Molly moaned over Ginny's lack of interest in the colors of the table linens, and her desire for yellow flowers over blue. Hermione just smiled while Ginny rolled her eyes and Angelina discussed flat colors with Fleur. On the whole, it was a comfortable time. Hermione wasn't sure she would have believed this group of women would get on so well, but was pleased they did. She wondered how the newer additions might fit in, whether Penny or Daphne would come to these Weasley Women gatherings as Molly was beginning to call them.

Following lunch, Angelina begged off, saying she had promised Alicia she would go furniture shopping with her, and Hermione said she'd promised she go back to the shop. She asked Ginny to take her things back to the Burrow so Fred wouldn't see them, and the remaining Weasley women went to check on the progress of Grimmauld Place to wile away the time until their purchases could be retrieved.

_A/N: Well, my favorite beta caught up and I'm feeling a bit more comfortable with the direction we're headed. I've just about finished with the latest chapter, and so in honor of that and of Deathly Hallows p1 opening in the US (going to see tomorrow morning!), here's the latest. I hope you enjoy it. This one is a bit shorter than my others, but it was end it here or end up with something over twice as long. I was thrilled to receive several reviews last chapter – thanks all who have left a review, I adore hearing from you. _


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Thank my good mood from the stunning performances in Deathly Hallows or the upcoming holiday in America for this little bonus chapter; whichever you prefer. I think, after five chapters, it's not a bad time to remind everyone that this fiction is rated M for a reason, and will contain violence, adult language and scenes of a sexual nature that are not appropriate for young readers. If those aren't your style, I would consider finding another story to read, as we'll be seeing more and more from this point forward. Thanks terrifically for all the lovely reviews and thoughts, I greatly enjoy them. And, as always, I do not own these characters or story (beyond what my imagination conjured up) and make no profit from this endeavor._

-o0o-

Chapter 6

-o0o-

Hermione was humming happily to herself when she entered the shop, but found that George's smile was somewhat strained. He motioned towards the back, and Hermione entered the workroom, calling out a cheery hello. Fred grunted in response, his concentration on the potion in front of him, which was looking sickly and mud-like. Hermione carefully tied her hair up and donned her work robes and joined him in front of the potion.

"I hope that's Polyjuice," she commented lightly. "Otherwise, you may as well throw it out now." Fred looked at her and looked back at the cauldron and sighed. He canceled the flame below it with a swish of his wand and vanished the contents. "Is this why George looked so strained?"

Fred sighed. "Yes. I snapped at him when I realized it was botched. My fault. Verity accidentally let loose the Pygmy Puffs and we were trying to corral them and I left it over a high flame. I hate botching potions." He ran a hand over his face, still looking irritated. "I'll have to apologize later," he said with a grimace.

Hermione touched his arm. "We all make mistakes. But that is why you need another person in the shop. Don't tell me you can't afford it, Fred. Just someone to be out front so you and George can work more back here. Please consider it?" Fred's only response was a sigh. He cast a mild cooling charm on the pewter cauldron, then cast a _scourgify_ on it and replaced it back in line with the other pewter cauldrons.

Hermione watched him, and then summoned the legendary Gryffindor courage and said, with only a small waver in her voice, "Er, Fred? What you asked about this morning? Er, yeah. I'll stay. But I don't have any clothes or anything, so I asked Ginny to bring over some things, if that's all right."

Fred's eyes lit up, he smiled. "That makes me really happy, Mione." He turned and gave her a hug and a kiss, that he would have deepened, had she not pulled away, a blush suffusing her cheeks.

"So, still going to show me the snack-boxes? I'm really interested in the reversal spell, and you mentioned the spell that divides them evenly for you. I can't wait to see it work. What do you need first?"

Fred smiled at her enthusiasm and he began gathering the ingredients and previously prepared potions for the Nosebleed Nougats. While he was doing that, Hermione started a blood replenishing potion across the room. It had been her idea to begin immediately restocking when the potions were being used. It was only possible with another person in the workroom to monitor all the potions, but it saved time, because they could brew larger batches of some stock potions they used regularly and not risk falling behind.

Being in Hermione's presence and good mood seemed to soothe Fred, who slipped into the more quiet and precise man. They worked together quietly, Fred calmly taking her step by step through the final preparation of the candy itself and starting the nose-bleed potion simmering. Hermione kept an eye on her potions as well, but followed Fred avidly, noting how he cut and distributed the ingredients and the number of stirs he used in each direction. Her potion was beginning its slow simmer when Fred called out it was time for the charms.

Hermione drew close, and watched with fascination as Fred cast the first of five charms. It was a long incantation with delicate wandwork required, and the foundation for the remaining charms. Once that was done the candy changed from a simmering liquid to a sticky solid, and he quickly cast another long incantation which divided the contents of the cauldron perfectly, and made them magically dependent on each other. He then waited exactly seventy-seven seconds and cast a short incantation which directed the blood replenishing potion into one half of the divided contents and the blood-inducing potion into the other half and a fourth charm caused the sticky substance to absorb it all. The final charm was a derivation on the second charm, which caused the two halves of the substance to separate into twenty-four evenly divided portions that matched the other half. Fred levitated them to the space he'd previously cleared and then tapped them twice. One set of twenty-four were coated in a pale blue and the other set of twenty-four were covered in pink. Fred then sat down and let out a sigh of relief.

"Perfect. I'll leave these out for an hour to cool, at which point we cast the identifying trigger that makes the second charm activate when they are eaten, then George will package them. What do you think? If I give you the incantations again, can you do it?" She did not mistake the challenge in his voice.

"I've got the incantations. I can do it now, if you'll process the second titration of the blood replenishing potion." Her chin was set defiantly, and Fred had an amused look on his face.

"Mione, it took us a full three months to get the correct wand movements down, and that was after we figured out the correct layering with the arithmantic calculations. You've seen me do it once, and you've not even run the calculation yourself. Are you sure you can do it?" Hermione's eyes flashed dangerously, and Fred grinned. "Right, right, you are Hermione Granger, of course you can do it. I'm just asking if you want to put stakes on it."

Hermione nonchalantly began gathering the ingredients for the final preparation as Fred had done. "What's the wager and what do I get when I win?" She set everything in line and began chopping up dandelion root into rough pentagons, which gave the final product binding stability.

Fred considered as he monitored the replenishing potion for proper reduction. "Easy this time. If you can manage to complete the layered charms correctly, first try, then you win. If you can't do them correctly and produce results like mine, I win. Winner gets a massage from the loser."

Hermione's eyes gleamed and she nodded. "You're on."

-o0o-

For the next half hour, Hermione worked quickly and efficiently in silence. Fred completed the second titration of the potion and left it to simmer again and watched her intently. She gave him a cheeky glance when it was time to begin the charms and pushed up the sleeves of her robes and with fierce concentration, she correctly repeated the intricate first charm to set the potion into the sticky substance, and the second charm to divide it evenly. She nearly bobbled the third charm when she almost waited too long, but caught herself in time to have the replenishing potion in place in time for the fourth absorption charm to be cast. She neatly rounded off the set of layered charms with the fifth one and there, next to Fred's perfectly divided nougats, were duplicates created by Hermione.

She let out a long breath, and turned triumphantly to Fred, a high flush on her cheeks, beaming. He looked completely gobsmacked. "I believe you owe me a massage, Frederick," she said primly.

"Shite, Hermione. Do you know what you just did? You did that on one bloody viewing. ONE. How is that possible?" He was looking at her in complete awe, and Hermione couldn't help but laugh.

"Fred, it wasn't that hard. I mean, it's terribly complicated of course, but you did give me the instructions in writing on Monday. I studied them, naturally. So you weren't quite correct when you said I'd never seen the calculation. I ran it last night to be sure I understood the anchor and the order." She grinned wickedly at him.

"I cannot believe it. GEORGE, GET IN HERE NOW!" Fred bellowed. He stood there grinning and shaking his head until his twin skidded into the workroom, having come at a run, expecting damage of some sort. Instead he looked back and forth between a smug Hermione and an amused looking Fred.

Fred pointed a finger at his fiancée and said, "You will not believe this, Gred. She _pranked_ me. Hermione Granger managed to prank me." George just turned to her with raised eyebrows, and all Hermione could do was shrug and laugh.

-o0o-

Hermione managed two more batches of the Nosebleed Nougats before she began to feel the effects of the charm casting and concentration. She was surprised, but Fred told her it was just like a muscle, it would get easier with more use. So instead, she began a base brew for a short-term invisibility potion and began restocking potions ingredients while Fred completed three sets of Puking Pastilles. The layered charms were similar in nature to the charms for the nougats, but there were subtle differences.

Once the third set was finished, Fred turned to Hermione and asked if she minded if he nipped out to the market to pick up supplies for dinner. She shook her head, and returned to the recipe book to study the next steps for the invisibility potion. Once the base was brewed, it could be set into stasis for up to three full moons, because it required a full two weeks of brewing. It was no wonder Fred and George did so well; many wizards could only brew basic potions.

George entered the workroom before Fred's return, having closed the shop and set the wards, as Hermione was completing the final step before stasis. He sat on the edge of a worktable and grinned at her. "I knew you were brilliant, Hermione. I never thought you'd be able to get one over on Fred. Were you planning it?"

Hermione grinned at George and shook her head. "You can't expect me to tell, Georgie. Where is the fun in that?"

George threw his head back and laughed. "Oi, Hermione, I think Fred's been a bad influence on you." She just winked at him, covered her potion and cast the stasis spell over the potion and the tiny flame beneath the cauldron to keep the temperature consistent. George watched. "You know Hermione, you've been an enormous help already. I need to show you our transfiguration based products. Something tells me you would be brilliant with those. And you've got a surprisingly devious mind. I'll reckon you could create some pretty interesting products if you put your mind to it." Hermione beamed at the praise.

George hopped off the table as Hermione removed her work robes and hung them neatly by the door, and they trooped up the stairs to the flat. Hermione curled up tiredly in the corner of the couch, while George began rummaging in the kitchen.

"Hermione, would you like tea, butterbeer, wine, mead or fire whiskey?" Hermione idly reflected that she needed to introduce the twins to Muggle liquor and expand their horizons a bit. What she really wanted was a vodka, but in lieu of that, she asked for wine, which George brought over and which she accepted gratefully. George had a butterbeer in his hands and he perched on the arm of the chair across from Hermione, and looked at her seriously. "You know, I think you've been good for Fred. He frets less with you around."

"I've never really considered Fred as a fretting type," Hermione said with some skepticism in her voice.

"He didn't use to be. But since the battle, he sometimes gets into these moods where he just broods. Won't talk to me about it, won't acknowledge it most times. He had nightmares nearly every night for awhile, but things seem better now. He's been a lot more cheerful lately. Fred really fancies you, you know." Hermione opened her mouth, but paused, uncertain how to respond or if a response was even required. Before she could decide, there was a whoosh of green flames and Angelina's head appeared in the fireplace.

"George, we're going to be late if you aren't here in ten minutes. You promised that we wouldn't be late this time."

"All right, Angie, let me change, and I'll be right through."

"If you want to spend the night in bed with me and not on the couch, you'd better be." Angie disappeared and George chuckled.

"Well, that's me told. I'm off for the fastest shower known to wizardkind and then off for the night. Be nice to Freddy, dear." George gave her a wink and then vanished down the hallway. She heard water running a moment later.

Hermione relished the relative privacy she had for the moment. It wasn't something she got much of anymore, between sharing a room at the always-busy Burrow and spending free time in the shop now. Fred and George and Verity were in and out of the workroom constantly. It was a guilty pleasure to take a moment of peace for herself. She thought a little longingly of the enormous tub sunk ingeniously into the floor of Fred's bathroom and admitted that she was rather looking forward to being able to take advantage of that tub soon. She closed her eyes and sipped her wine and felt herself relax. It had been a long day, but overall, a happy and enjoyable one. And she was looking forward to her evening with Fred. Other than the first evening, there hadn't been a lot of time strictly alone, beyond what was stolen here or there, where anyone could interrupt them. She felt a mixture of anticipation and pleasure at the prospect, and shivered a little.

Moments later, there was the sound of the wards chiming, indicating Fred had entered downstairs, and sure enough, his footsteps echoed on the stairs. He was humming off-key under his breath, and gave her a winning grin when he saw her. He unshrunk a bundle of groceries, which he banished to the kitchen and came over to give her loud, smacking kiss on the lips, which made her smile. He flopped next to her, took her wineglass and drank down a deep swallow.

"Oh, do help yourself," Hermione said with asperity. Fred chuckled.

"Never fear, love. I'll get you some more in a moment. I have some plans for you this evening." Fred's voice was low and silky, and he wore a smirk that made Hermione shiver a bit, involuntarily. Before he could say more, his twin appeared, hair still wet.

"Freddy, don't go corrupting young Granger here. I have grand plans to use her stunning intelligence and if she's completely done in by having shagged you all night, she won't be at her best." Hermione huffed, and glared at George, while Fred tried to hide his laughter. George gave the pair a big, theatrical wink. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do, kiddies!" he called out before stepping into the Floo and spinning away.

"So, I'm going to get dinner started then. Did you want more wine?" Hermione nodded and handed her glass over, and started to get up, only to have Fred gently push her down. "Stay there. I know you're tired. Between the giggling gaggle of witches, trying on robes, which I understand to be entertaining but enormously exhausting, and your charms work, you're probably near knackered. I wasn't kidding, Mione, I've got plans for us tonight." He leaned down and gave her a soft, lingering kiss.

"I should help with dinner at least," Hermione protested.

"Hey, would you let me do this please? I'm trying to do something nice to butter you up, and if you insist on helping then I might not get my way." Fred winked at her, but she felt a pit of nerves unwind in her stomach.

"Fred Weasley, what exactly is that supposed to mean?" Fred summoned the wine bottle from the counter George had left it and poured more into the glass, handed it to her, and sat on the coffee table in front of her.

"Hermione, do you trust me?" He was completely serious, and his face reflected that. Slowly she nodded. "Ok. Then do you trust I won't make you do anything that you are uncomfortable with?" Again, she nodded. "Right. So, what I would like for you to do is try to relax. Try to enjoy the evening. Let me take care of you, and trust me, yeah?" She studied him for a moment, and nodded. He started to rise, but she reached out.

"Fred, wait. It's not that I don't trust you, it's just that surprises make me really nervous. Can you just tell me what you want to do?" He studied her in his turn, then squeezed her knee.

"If I did that, Granger, it wouldn't be a surprise any longer, would it?" Fred hopped up from his perch on the coffee table and headed back into the kitchen to start dinner.

Hermione gave up, pretended to pout, but Fred simply laughed at her. She swallowed the remaining wine in her glass and decided bravely to ask for use of the shower. Fred waved her on, saying dinner would be ready in about twenty minutes. Hermione went back into Fred's room, and was surprised by it's neatness. A knapsack was on the bed, which Hermione recognized as Ginny's, and she was relieved. She stepped into the luxurious bathroom, and tapped the shower head with her wand to turn on the water of the shower. Hermione set a strong locking charm on the door, took off her clothes, and hunted for a clean towel, which she found in a tucked away linen closet. Realizing she'd left her bag on the bed, she wrapped the towel securely around herself and unlocked the door. She peered around it but Fred wasn't in the room, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

Opening the bag, Hermione took out her toiletries and banished them to the shower. She then pulled out the clothing, so it would be laid out for her, only to find that Ginny's sense of humor had won out. There were normal work clothes for the next day, but Ginny's idea of something to sleep in apparently meant something short, frilly and see through. And as if that weren't bad enough, she had packed that ridiculous skirt she'd tried to talk Hermione into for her first date with Fred. She knew it wasn't the end of the world; she was a witch, and perfectly capable of transfiguring the clothing. It was simply that she was already on edge with a mix of nerves and anticipation and she hadn't needed this little aggravation of Ginny's joke or encouragement, whichever this was meant to be. She held up the skirt with disgust, when she heard a low whistle behind her, and Fred saying, "Merlin's beard, Hermione. That is one hell of a skirt. If it's even long enough to be considered a skirt, that is. George should have been warning you off; I have only the purest intentions." He gave her a wicked grin and raised an eyebrow as he looked provokingly at her towel.

"This," Hermione informed Fred crisply, "is your little sister's skirt. She wears it when she wants to drive Harry crazy." She took pleasure in Fred's thinly disguised wince at that mental image, and then continued. "Apparently, Ginny thinks it's amusing to pack things she knows I would never consider wearing, so now I have to transfigure it all into something appropriate. Did you need something, Fred? I don't generally hold conversations wearing only a towel."

He cleared his throat and said in low voice, "By all means, Mione, take the towel off if you are uncomfortable." At her scathing look, he held up his hands in a gesture of peace. "All right, I'll leave off. I just came in to change. I thought we could eat in front of the fire, so don't feel you have to look smart. I'm actually just going to make myself comfortable. I will wait until you are safely back in the bathroom though."

"Well, I hate to ask, but, er, do you have anything I could borrow? Ginny didn't exactly pack anything to sleep in, and what she did pack won't be suitable for transfiguration." Hermione looked down, feeling something unidentifiable, something about borrowing his clothing. It was an intimacy she wasn't prepared for.

Fred shrugged. "Sure, you're welcome to anything you can find. Help yourself." She gave him a grateful smile and slipped back into the bathroom, quickly locking the door before leaping into the shower. She wouldn't put it past Fred to have developed extendable eyes or some such nonsense, though that didn't explain the twinge of excitement she felt at the prospect. Throwing Fred out of her mind, she concentrated on finishing her shower quickly. She did use the depilatory charm, as Ginny had advised her to do for the first date. Not that anything would happen, mind, but if they did sleep in the same bed, she wanted to be sure her legs were smooth.

She washed her hair, to make sure there would be no trace of potions ingredients lingering, and then turned off the taps. She stayed in the shower, using a drying charm on her body, then she summoned her towel and secured it around her once more. Hermione stood before the mirror and cast a special drying charm that set her hair into loose waves, instead of the bushy, tangled mass of curls she used to have. Once that was done, she went back into the bedroom and dug around Fred's chest of drawers. She didn't want to pry, but she was curious. Things were loosely organized, but not stored terribly neatly. Hermione noticed Fred seemed to like boxer shorts instead of briefs, colorful socks, and that he had a good number of white undershirts, one of which she appropriated to wear. She dug through another drawer and found some long pyjama bottoms in a variety of garish colors and patterns. Hermione chuckled to herself, and picked out least tacky she could find – a pair of blue pyjamas with white pinstripes. They were, naturally, far too long for her and too big in the waist, so she cast a tailoring charm to alter them temporarily to fit her. She dug through the bag once again and was relieved to find Ginny had included clean knickers and a matching bra, so she made sure the door to the bedroom was charmed and then dressed quickly.

Hermione stepped out of the bedroom to find Fred waiting in the hallway, similarly attired. "Dinner's ready" was his only comment on seeing Hermione's clothing. She followed him into the lounge, where dinner was set on the coffee table facing the fire, and several cushions provided for comfort. Hermione sank gratefully onto one and Fred handed her another glass of wine; she would have to be careful, she didn't drink so much normally. She looked at the food before her appreciatively, and gave Fred a smile.

Fred watched as Hermione took her first bite and closed her eyes to enjoy it. "Fred, this is incredible. When did you learn to cook like this?" Fred began eating as well.

"I'd watched Mum for years, of course, but didn't really try until we moved in here. I learned pretty quickly that it was going to be take-away and curries from Muggle London every night unless one of us cooked. And I learned quickly that George is bloody awful at it. I'm good at Potions, I figured it couldn't be too different. I don't think it is, but George can brew as well as me and the food is terrible. He can do up a hash, but I wouldn't trust him with any more."

Hermione continued to savor the food. "Well, I'm grateful. I think you are better at this than I am."

Fred's eyes widened comically, "Hermione Granger saying someone is better than her at something? Surely not!"

"So I'm more modest than I used to be. I am quite certain that I can outbake you though. I make really fantastic biscuits, and a chocolate cake that would make your mouth water."

"Hmmmm. I'll have to see it to believe it, you know. Can't just take your word for it."

Hermione gave him an amused look. "Oh, like you couldn't take my word on being able to cast the charms?"

Fred winced. "Touché, Mione. You were fucking brilliant." Hermione tutted at his language, but was clearly pleased anyway.

"I'm not very fast. Surely it doesn't help much to be able only to restock ninety-six units."

"Sure it does. Nearly 100 units, and if we get into a regular brewing schedule based on demand, it's a huge help. And once you get it down, it can be possible to double the amount. The fact that you are catching up our base potions is the biggest help though. We will be able to restock and even get ahead for Christmas, which is huge for us, you know. I can't tell you how much you've helped us, and how grateful we are."

"How on earth did you do all the brewing to open up in the first place?"

Fred snorted a bit. "Had no bleeding social life for months, is how. We take off a fair amount now, but when it's necessary, we work on things after-hours. 'S why we moved into the flat in the first place. At first one of us nearly always had something going. It's a lot of work, but if we get fully restocked, it's easier to maintain."

Hermione nodded. She could understand that; it's why she had never dated much at Hogwarts, it cut into study time too much. She said as much to Fred.

"Hmm, I reckoned as much. You're a pretty gorgeous bird, and dating Krum didn't hurt your image at all. But you know the saying, all work and no play. . ." Hermione just rolled her eyes.

"Yes, but it's generally a good idea to make sure you can afford your free time, don't you think? I wanted to do well and get good grades so I could get a good job. It's harder for Muggleborns, you know. It's like I have to be twice as good as Malfoy to get half the consideration." The frustration was evident.

"I'm sure that will be changing, though. The point of the new law, innit?"

Hermione chewed thoughtfully. "I hope so, but you are talking about changing millenia of evolved prejudices. And if it's not this, something else will likely take it's place." She sighed at the thought.

"Well, it remains to be seen. I have no doubt that you will do fantastically well on your NEWTs and then you'll have your pick of jobs. You're pretty amazing, don't sell yourself short. But that, soon to be wife of mine, is the future, and tonight, you are not to worry about anything."

"Ah, yes, your grand plans. And just what are your grand plans if you aren't planning to have your wicked way with me then?"

"Show, not tell, Hermione. Finish eating first." Fred flashed that devilish smile at her again, and she felt a frisson of excitement run through her. "In the meantime, tell me all about your shopping expedition."

Hermione shrugged a bit. "It was a good deal of fun. Luna was outrageous, Fleur was needling your mum by talking about ways we could seduce our husbands, Angie was laughing and we had a good time, I think. Ginny's robes are simply gorgeous; you will barely recognize your little sister next week. Harry is going to be gobsmacked."

"Wait, I want to hear more about Fleur's tips."

"Show, not tell, right Fred?" Hermione gave him an innocent look, which caused his jaw to drop.

"Feel free to show me anytime, Mione. Anytime at all." She simply arched an eyebrow and he switched subjects hastily. "And you? Did you find robes?"

"I did. I . . . actually really love them. I felt, I don't know, attractive in them. Sort of how I felt before the Yule Ball. They were Fleur's pick."

"What do they look like?" Fred seemed genuinely interested.

"Nope, I can't tell you. It's a surprise. Muggle tradition is that the groom can't see the dress before the wedding ceremony. I want you to be surprised when I walk to the altar. I hope you'll like them. You'll be able to see your robes before then though. Madame Malkin said they would be delivered next week. Navy blue, as you asked. We managed to find a lovely robe for Ginny, which they will charm chocolate brown and they're going to add a red ribbon at the waist. I was thinking we could use red ribbons around the bouquets as well, since you want more color."

Fred actually looked sort of touched. "That's really nice of you Mione. What kind of flowers were you thinking of? I don't even know what kind you like."

Hermione looked thoughtful. "For the wedding, actually I've been thinking about Gerbera daisies, if we can find them. They are these lovely huge daisies that come in a wide variety of colors. I like those a good deal, generally. I also like lilies. They smell so beautifully. And hydrangeas, they sort of look like clouds."

"No roses then?" Fred asked.

Hermione scrunched up her nose adorably. "I do like roses, but they are sort of overrated, aren't they? They are considered romantic, so they are the go-to flower. They can be beautiful and smell nice, but they are best in the garden."

"Do you like gardens, then?" Fred's voice was soft.

"Yes, I do. I like flowers, and there are so many potions that perform better when they use fresh ingredients, you know that. Easiest way is to grow them yourself." Fred nodded, but was quiet for a few moment, a small frown furrowing his brow.

Hermione was full, so she pushed her plate away, which caught Fred's attention. "All done then? Fantastic. Let me just wash up." Fred banished their plates to the kitchen and in a few minutes, they were washed, put away, and the kitchen was clean. Hermione felt the nerves growing a bit, not knowing what Fred had planned.

He returned and sat down in the middle of the couch and motioned her to a spot beside him. She did, but perched on the edge. He tried not to laugh, and gently repositioned her until she was perpendicular to him and her legs were draped over his lap. She was incredibly tense, and biting her lip.

"Hermione. Relax. Trust me, all right. Nothing happens that you don't want to happen."

She nodded, but then blurted out, "Where are we sleeping?"

Fred chuckled with amusement at her exclamation. "I had figured in the bed. But it's up to you, Hermione. There is a guest room, and there is a couch. I'll sleep wherever you tell me to. Now, relax."

Fred picked up a foot and began massaging it. Hermione let out a soft sigh and closed her eyes. "That feels nice. I had no idea you were so talented."

"I am a man of many, many talents, Hermione." She laughed softly, but she was relaxing. "So, open book?" Hermione opened her eyes and nodded. "All right. Favorite childhood memory."

"That's easy. There was a lovely day in the park one summer. Mummy packed up a picnic, and we talked Dad into coming. We sat and ate on a blanket, and the sun was shining. When we were done, we fed the ducks in the pond, and then Dad took me to the playground and pushed me on the swings. It was just a really lovely day, you know?" Fred nodded, picking up her other foot and beginning to work on that.

"What about you? Ooh, that feels lovely." She was sinking into the cushions, snuggling more. Fred smiled.

"I think the one that stands out is pretty similar. I was nine or so, it was summer, Bill and Charlie and Percy were home from school, Ginny was growing up. We used to swim in the pond all the time. Big water fights, and Dad and Bill tossing all of us into the deep end. Just nice days you think go on forever when you're little." Hermione nodded.

"Right, so my turn." Hermione cleared her throat and said in a light tone, "How many witches have you slept with then?" Fred groaned.

"I was afraid you would ask that question. Promise not to be upset with me?" Hermione nodded uncertainly. "Er, what exactly is your definition of 'sleep with'?" Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Okay, right. Eight, if you count the incident in the broom closet on the sixth floor with Angelina after the Yule Ball, in which we did not have sex, but did, um, other things, and to which neither of us ever, ever refer since she started seeing George."

"Eight?" Hermione's voice was very high, and a nervous look crossed her face. Fred sighed a bit and nodded, and continued to rub her feet and legs, hoping she wouldn't tense up now when he had just got her so relaxed.

"It's a little embarrassing to admit it like that, love. And I don't think it's going to sound any better when I say that most of them didn't mean anything." Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Didn't think so. George and I were not exactly monks, which I know doesn't surprise you. I hooked up exactly once with Alicia Spinnet in fifth year after we won the Quidditch Cup, which was my first time, and that was a bloody disaster. The sex was awful. Then there was a Ravenclaw I saw for a few months at the end of sixth year when Angie and I agreed to be friends. We only shagged a couple of times before she fell in love with some seventh year Slytherin swot. Alicia and I gave it another go one night when we'd both had too much fire whiskey, and the results weren't much different, and to make it better, she called me George." Hermione laughed. "Please, please promise me, Hermione, that you will never, ever do that." Hermione just smiled at him, her eyes carrying a mischievous look that didn't bode well for him.

"Right. So after Alicia, there was a really lovely and accommodating Hufflepuff I got together with a few times. Mostly a lark. Then we left school and started the shop in earnest. I met the other girls either at parties the girls threw or when Georgie and I went out while he and Angelina were fighting. One night stands, mostly, or a couple of dates. They were lookers but never turned out very interesting otherwise. Went out with a few others I didn't sleep with." Fred sort of shrugged, the tips of his ears red.

"I thought you told me you were a good shag." She said this with a straight face, and it took Fred a moment to realize she was teasing him.

"Oi, Granger. I _am_ a good shag. Apart from Alicia, that is. Very few people are good shags their first go round. It's worse when neither of you know what you are doing. But I've gotten very good over the years, and I promise you, I know what I'm doing," he concluded with a wink. Hermione gave him a skeptical look, but he only responded with a wicked grin.

"I suppose you'll just have to prove it," she said, the teasing tone clear in her voice. Fred's eyes widened for just a fraction of a second before he threw back his head and laughed.

"Careful what you wish for, Granger; unless that's an invitation?" He leered at her in an overly exaggerated fashion, which made her huff, though she was smiling. To his relief, his confession hadn't turned her off or made her tense again. So he continued their game. "Ok, here's another. How many children do you want?"

"Not seven," came her quick response. "Being the only child was nice, in a way, but it was lonely. I used to wish and wish for a little brother or sister. I think two or three is nice. Not too big, but not so lonely either."

"I can't imagine being an only child. Part of being a twin, I suppose. I think the same, though I could go for four." Hermione just made a sort of hmphing noise. Fred's hands were now moving higher, massaging her calves. It was really a lovely, relaxed sort of feeling, a bit like floating.

"Speaking of twins, I always wondered. You and George often finish each others sentences and speak in unison. How did you learn to do that?"

Fred laughed. "We've just always done it. I can look at him and know exactly what he is thinking. We have never been able to hide things from each other. I don't know why or how, exactly. It's just that sometimes I just sort of know what he's going to say or do."

"Hmmm. That could make an interesting study. Of course, you and George are pretty similar. Padma and Parvati Patil were not, even being sorted into different houses. I wonder if that's because they wanted to be different from each other and so they sort of pushed forward their differences, while you wanted to be similar, and so you sort of push forward your similarities."

"An interesting question. I don't know. We've always just been Fred-and-George, you know?"

"Are you going to miss him, Fred? When he moves out, I mean?" her voice was soft, but she'd hit at a tender spot.

"Yes. Can't lie about that. I mean, we've certainly spent a fair amount of time apart since we moved in here, but at the end of the day, we've always lived together. Not living together will be odd." Fred shivered slightly, a dark look crossing his face, which Hermione did not fail to notice.

"I'm sorry, Fred. I wish things were different." She reached out and placed her hand on his arm. He squeezed her leg gently in response.

"It was going to happen sooner or later, and the benefit of this arrangement is that I'll have a gorgeous woman living with me instead. If I have to give up George, you're a pretty smashing replacement." He winked at her.

"Fred, why do you always say things like that? That I'm gorgeous and such. It's very nice of you and all, but it's not necessary."

Fred gave her a look of such surprise that she was taken aback herself. "Mione, clearly, you need to hear it, because you don't think of yourself that way at all. I'm not being nice, love. I've told you that already. I think you are amazingly attractive."

"But why?" Hermione whispered, afraid of the answer.

"Gods, Mione, why not? You've got an amazing body, with beautiful curves. Your knockers are bloody perfect, your arse is amazing, your legs are fantastic and your eyes are incredible. Big, brown, lovely. You make these expressions that drive me mad. Your hair just makes me want to wrap my fingers in it and your lips are just perfectly kissable. In short, you are a bloody gorgeous bird."

"You really think so?" The look of hope on her face was a bit painful to him.

"Yes, Hermione, I really think so. You don't think I kiss you and hug you because I'm trying to be nice, do you?" Fred was back to amusement.

"Well, no, but. . ." her voice trailed off. Then, with more confidence she said, "George and Ginny both said you fancy me. Is that true?"

"Yes, Hermione. If I'm being honest, I probably wouldn't have considered this, were it not for the law, because you were dating Ron. But yes, the more time we spend together, the more I find myself wanting to spend time with you. I like you very much, Mione." His hands had stilled and his voice was soft, his eyes shining with such sincerity, it made Hermione tear up. He reached out a hand to cradle her face and wipe her the tear trickling down her face away with his thumb. "Please don't cry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"No, no you didn't. I just don't know what to say. I feel the same way, Fred. It scares me some. I thought I was in love with Ron, but I wasn't. What if I only think I'm falling in love with you?"

"Do you mean that, Hermione? You think you're falling in love with me?" Fred's face had a strange expression. Hermione's hand flew to her mouth as she realized what she'd said, but she nodded anyway. "I . . . Stay here just for a mo." Fred picked her legs up off his lap and stood up, then strode from the room. Hermione sat up, and hugged herself. Where had he gone? Had she frightened him away? She shivered, and felt very alone.

_A/N: I know, another one? Yes, just to say that it's likely I'll update again this week, and then there is likely to be a delay because of the holidays - things get busy. And of course, work is doing its best dementor impression and sucking out my soul. Ah well, least I have a job, I suppose. I've been continuing to work on other pieces in addition to this, so add me to author alert or check my profile if you want to be informed of when those may go up. I hope you continue to enjoy my little offerings._


	7. Chapter 7

_Disclaimer: It's M for a reason, folks. Last chance to turn around! Also - second verse same as the first. Not mine, no profit, etc etc, Henry VIII and so on._

-o0o-

_Chapter 7_

-o0o-

Fred was in his room, running his hand through his hair. George had outlined a plan for him to woo Hermione. A bold plan, with a great deal of panache. This evening had been a step towards that, and they had had plans for Ginny and Harry's wedding as well, but the thing he had never foreseen was Hermione admitting that she was developing feelings for him. She had actually said that she was falling for him, and was worried over it. He couldn't believe his luck. Fred Weasley, joker extraordinaire, matched with the perfect prefect Hermione Granger, and they were falling for each other. And it wasn't even a case of opposites attracting; Fred had come to realize that they had a very good deal in common.

This was insane. What he was about to do was insane, and he knew it. But instinct and impulsiveness had always been a part of his make-up, and he wasn't going to let anything as silly as plans or fears stand in his way. Decision made, he nodded to his reflection, summoned a small bag from his wardrobe and returned to the living room, where Hermione was again perched on the edge of the couch, looking for all the world like she was about to bolt.

"Hey," he said softly. He again sat on the coffee table, opposite from her. He handed her the small brown bag. "I've had this for about a week. This wasn't quite how I intended it go, but it feels right. I want you to have this." Hermione took the bag, but her hands were visibly shaking as she opened the bag and pulled from inside a small jewelry box.

"Fred?" she questioned timidly, afraid to open the box. He took it from her and opened it so she could see the contents – a large, pale green-blue stone the color of a calm ocean, in a sparkling oval cut, completely surrounded by tiny pavé set diamonds, which also continued on either side of the delicate band, all set in a silvery metal. Hermione gulped and looked at Fred with large, wide eyes, already tearing up.

"It's a green amethyst. I know Muggles do big diamond rings, but it's not quite how we do it in the Wizarding world. Gemstones have meanings, you know, and are imbued with their own special traces of magic, so what you give to someone has a lot of meaning. The witch at the jeweler's helped me find this. Amethysts are for deep love and passion, the fact it's green emphasizes constant, deep friendship in marriage, and diamonds of course are for constancy, brilliance and purity of love. It's sort of all the things I'm feeling for you and hoping for us." Tears spilled down Hermione's face. Fred took her hand in his, the ring held in the other. "I know you didn't choose this, that neither of us did. But for whatever reason, we've been thrown together. And I'm falling in love with you. And so I want to give you this, to ask you, for myself, will you marry me?"

Hermione slowly nodded while the tears spilled down her face. Fred let out a relieved sigh, and slid the ring onto her left ring finger, where it magically adjusted to fit her finger. He admired it for a moment, then leaned forward and again wiped the tears from her eyes, then softly kissed her lips. The kiss remained soft, sweet, chaste. He brushed the hair back from her forehead and kissed there too. They remained like this for some time before Fred pulled back and finally said, "Er, Mione? Please say something."

"It's beautiful, Fred. The ring is beautiful, and what it means, and the fact that you asked me. It's beautiful." She sniffled a little.

"Do you really like it? I suppose I should have taken you along with me. If you don't like it, we can exchange it for something else when we go buy our rings. But I sort of thought you would." He felt that he was babbling, so he stopped.

"No, it's absolutely perfect. Really. Thank you Fred. Thank you so much." She leaned forward and kissed him this time, a more passionate kiss than what he bestowed on her. When it ended, she looked at him with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "So this was not the surprise then?"

He laughed a bit and rubbed his neck. "No. I had sort of thought that maybe we take a bath together. The tub is bigger than the pond at the Burrow, and I'm sure you can transfigure something into a bathing costume, so I'm not suggesting anything outlandish. Unless, you know, you're interested." And just like that, Fred had returned to his cocky, confident self.

"Actually, that sounds heavenly. Provided we are both wearing swimming costumes, Fred." She leveled a warning glare at him. He smiled and said he would go turn on the taps to start the tub filling, and change into his swimwear, and leave her to transform her own attire. He kissed her hand before releasing it, and then was gone. She stayed a moment, staring at her engagement ring, watching it twinkle and sparkle in the firelight. It was stunning, eye-catching in it's delicate style and unusual color. She shook her head to rouse herself, then removed the shirt and pyjama pants she'd been wearing, and closing her eyes, she pointed her wand at her underclothes and with a muttered incantation, she was suddenly no long wearing a cute bra and knickers, but a smart black two piece bathing costume. More daring than she might normally choose, but hardly risqué. Picking up the clothing, she entered the bathroom, to find the tub had rapidly filled, and with a thick layer of bubbles that carried the scents of jasmine and lavender to her. Fred looked her up and down and blinked.

"Wow. How you managed to hide that body under robes for years, I cannot fathom." Hermione's cheeks turned pink, but she let Fred help her into the tub. She sank quickly down to bottom step and leaned back, enjoying the feeling of the warm water. "Right, I'm going to get drinks. What would you like? More wine? Butterbeer? Ale? Pumkpin juice? Water? Hot Cocoa?"

"Butterbeer, please. Though we should go shopping for some other things sometime. I'll take you to a Muggle supermarket, and show you some of the things I grew up with." Hermione cast an imperturbable charm on her hair, since she had only recently washed it, and then used her wand to anchor her hair in a bun and began swimming to the other side as Fred walked out. It wasn't a bad bit of exercise, really, and she enjoyed the novelty of swimming in October. She swam back as Fred returned with a conjured basket filled with butterbeer, cooled with a charm. He had stopped to put on his own bathing costume of bright royal blue trunks, and now took off his shirt before joining Hermione in the tub-cum-lap pool.

"Quidditch certainly has been kind to you, then," Hermione said with a glance at him, and a twinkle in her eye. It was the first time she'd dared to comment on his appearance, but she was feeling more daring, and well, it was true. Fred was long and lean, and years spent playing Beater had honed his chest and abs and developed his upper body nicely, and he had maintained that trim look, despite the infrequency with which he now played.

"That's right. I'd forgotten you had a thing for Quidditch players, Granger. Like what you see, do you?" He raised an eyebrow, but rather than responding, she sent a small splash at him and tried to swim away. Unfortunately, he was too fast for her, and he returned the splash and in no time, they were involved in a full scale water war of splashing and ducking, until Fred's length proved too much and he grabbed hold of her and pulled her close to him before she could squirm away. Her laughter died as she realized Fred's eyes had darkened, and she felt how quickly her heart had started beating. They were wet and weightless in the water, breathless from exertion, and now close together. It was intoxicating, erotic. Without stopping and thinking too much about it, Hermione slid her arms around Fred's neck and using his shoulders for leverage, pulled herself up higher, hooking her legs around his waist to support herself and then she kissed him deeply.

Fred responded enthusiastically, one hand going to her bum to support her, the other stroking her side, up and down, up and down. She moaned a little when his hand brushed her breast, and he took that as invitation to continue exploring, his hand now fully covering her breast, gently kneading, teasing the nipple that had grown erect. Hermione was feeling overcome, not wanting him to stop the contact, but a bit surprised. Fred took advantage to move back towards a wall, where he leaned Hermione against the wall and began kissing her neck and heard her sharp intake of breath. He gently squeezed her breast and whispered into her ear, "Is this all right?"

She nodded dumbly, and he switched hands, so that he could touch the other breast, his other hand cupping her arse. Hermione was dimly aware of the growing pool of warmth in the pit of her stomach, and an unnamed urgency rising within her, and becoming more and more aware of the evidence of Fred's growing desire rising beneath her. Fred kissed her deeply, and she responded, but when he broke off and began trailing kisses down to her chest, she began to tense up. He immediately stopped and said in a low voice, "Too much?" and she looked away and nodded and he pulled her close and hugged her tightly. "Ok, that's fine. Let's slow down, and have something to drink, yeah?" She nodded, and unhooking her legs from his waist, they moved back to the edge of the tub, where Fred handed her a bottle of butterbeer and they sat next to each other on the steps and sipped slowly. Fred kept an arm around her, kept her pulled close.

"Mione, may I ask you something?"

"Open book," she said with a shaky laugh.

"Have you ever had an orgasm?" She blushed beet red and would have scooted away had he had not a firm hold on her. "I'm not trying to embarrass you, love. It's just that we never have talked about this. I'm willing to go slowly, I want you to be comfortable, but you need to be open with me, so I know what is too much. So, have you had an orgasm?"

"I think so," she said softly, not meeting his eyes.

"You think so? Hermione, it's the sort of thing that you have done or not done. There's not a lot of room for doubt here." Fred's voice was filled with humor, which only embarrassed her more. "Right, so let me ask something else. Do you masturbate?"

Hermione groaned. "Please don't ask me that. Gods, this is so _mortifying_." She put her head in her hands, covering her eyes

"It's a very normal thing to do, and very healthy. I masturbate, George masturbates, most blokes wank. Have you ever done it?" His tone was very matter of fact, as he shrugged.

"Yes, a few times, when I've been alone. But it never seemed to do much for me," she admitted.

"You probably over think it. It is possible to over think sex, Hermione. It's not really a right or wrong thing, there isn't a list of rules or restrictions or guides to how to do it. You just sort of have to go with what feels good, and build from there."

"That's what Ginny said," Hermione mused.

"Ok, I lied. That is a new, very firm rule about our sex life. If you discuss it with Ginny, I don't want to know. I most especially don't want to know if she is giving you tips or examples from her own life. I can respect that she is a grown witch and has needs like anyone else, but I do not want to hear about them in detail." Hermione was coaxed into a laugh at his disgust. He smiled at her and continued. "Although she has a point. So, you've never, ever had an orgasm?"

"I think I've come close a few times, but I've either been interrupted or just couldn't quite get there." She shrugged.

"Hermione, I would really like for you to get there. Would you be willing to let me try to help you out?" She just looked at him from the corner of her eye without answering. "It's ok to say no, Hermione. I'm not expecting anything here. There is no pressure, it's whatever you feel is right."

She thought for a few moments, and finally whispered, "Ok, yes. That's fine. I trust you." Fred broke into a grin and kissed her cheek, but she had tensed up considerably.

"Right, first things first. Let's get out of the tub, and go back into the bedroom. It'll be more comfortable there. You go ahead and get dressed again, and I'll get things tidied up in here, yeah?"

"Dressed?" Hermione squeaked out.

"Yeah, I think you'll be more comfortable. Though you may want to leave your bra off. Just like you were getting ready for bed, all right? I'll be in just behind you." He stepped out of the pool, helped Hermione out and cast a drying charm over her. She quickly took off her costume and shimmied into the pyjama pants and t-shirt as quickly as she could, then realized that her bikini bottoms were her transfigured knickers, but then Fred stepped through, once again wearing a t-shirt and pyjama bottoms as well, and she just mentally shrugged.

He wrapped his arms around her, but found her tense and stiff as a board, and he chuckled. "What on earth are you afraid of, Mione?"

"I don't know. I guess I don't know what to expect or what to do." Fred was rubbing small circles on her back.

"That's the thing, love. Right now, you don't have to do anything. Leave it to me, yeah?" She nodded, but was still tense. "Here, I owe you a massage. Why don't you lay down, and let me relax you a little." He coaxed her over to the bed, then dimmed the lights. "Lay down on your stomach. I'll start down here with your feet, like I did earlier, all right? You enjoyed that, didn't you?"

"Yes. That was nice." Hermione's voice was still squeaky and high-pitched, but after Fred started methodically rubbing her feet and calves, she began to relax some.

"All right, Mione, why don't you tell me which of my many attractive qualities you are most drawn to?"

"Certainly not your humility," she shot out quickly. Fred chuckled. "I do like your sense of humor, of course, even if it does tend towards the juvenile at times." Fred laughed again. "But really, I like your eyes and your smile. And your body's not shabby to look at either." Fred worked his way up her legs, and she was feeling the soporific effects of the gentle massage. He moved his hands lightly over her arse, and set to rubbing her lower back, gradually moving up, watching the tension drain out of her.

"So, does this feel all right?" Hermione made an incoherent sound, which made Fred grin. "So, bet settled, then?"

"Mmmph," was the response he received. He run his thumb over her neck and followed it up with a light touch of his lips. He then ran his fingertips lightly over her neck and shoulder and down her arm, finally grazing the palm of her hand, and felt her shiver under his touch. Fred told her in a light tone to roll over, and once she had complied, he began kissing her deeply before she could begin to tense up again. He pulled her close, but not so close that he was unable to continue running his fingers lightly over whatever parts of her body he could reach.

For her part, Hermione was getting lost in the sensation of Fred's touch and his kiss. Her eyes were closed and she could feel his light grazing of her skin as if it were hot as a fire stone touching her. She concentrated on that sensation, and barely missed him tearing his lips from hers and kissing softly at her jaw and then her neck. His fingers slid under her shirt and his hand trailed up to her breast and he repeated his actions from earlier, gently palming her breast, kneading it, teasing it. It was setting her on fire, and she couldn't think straight between the feelings he was stoking in her and the warm, wetness of his tongue licking the hollow of her throat. He nipped gently at her collarbone and heard her low moan. His hand moved to her other breast, and he could feel the new tension beginning to build in her.

In a low, rumbling whisper he asked, "Do you trust me?" She nodded without hesitation, and with a wave of his hand, the lights were doused completely, and he tugged at her shirt. She arched up to help him take it off her, and was rewarded by his kissing and licking his way down to her breasts. She held her breath until Fred licked his way around her nipple and finally took it in his mouth, suckling lightly at it, rolling his tongue around it, while his hand continued brushing fingertips lightly over her stomach. A wetness was growing between her legs, a vaguely familiar ache was building low in her core.

Hermione groaned incoherently when Fred removed his mouth from her breast and kissed his way back up to her lips and kissed her deeply again. She was kissing him with intensity, their tongues stroking, sliding, wrestling, she was pulling him down to her, pressing herself close to him, trying to recapture some of the pressure from earlier, when his hand came to rest low on her stomach, and she felt the aching pressure increase.

Fred broke the kiss, kissed the underside of her jaw again, and allowed his hand to graze over the mound at the apex of her thighs, and felt her jerk beneath him. He could feel her increasing arousal, and continued to lightly stroke her over her clothes, her legs parting obligingly for him of their own accord. He kissed and nipped his way back down to her other breast and wasted no time lavishing attention on it, as Hermione arched her back to initiate the contact, and gave a low moan when she felt his mouth on her. This was already well beyond anything she had experienced, and she was too into the moment to analyze it at all. She felt her hips thrusting for contact whenever Fred's fingers glided over her, and an exquisite ache that she couldn't name. All she could do was beg, "Please, Fred, please." This was the invitation he'd waited for, and his hand had skimmed inside her pyjama pants and he felt bare skin and Hermione could feel the vibrations of his moan.

His long, clever fingers touched her, teased her, found her wetness and the center of the ache, and he was pressing and rubbing and she was on the edge, and his mouth was sucking harder on her nipple and she could feel the pressure rising, and then she clinched and cried out, and shuddered with her first orgasm. Fred lightly released her nipple, kissing it, and slowly stopped touching her swollen clitoris, and gradually moved his hand to her stomach. He could feel her trembling, and he scooted up, to wrap his body around hers, to pull her firmly into his embrace, knowing how vulnerable she felt right now, wanting to hold her close. He didn't bother trying to hide his own erection, he rather felt it might help her believe that she really did turn him on after all.

Fred didn't say anything, waiting for her to catch her breath and say something, which she did after a moment.

"Gods, Fred. That was . . . bloody amazing." He could hear her smile and he laughed loudly.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it, Hermione, as that rather was the point," he said dryly.

Hermione felt too sated to feel embarrassed. "I don't know how to say thank you, Fred. That was really incredible. I felt . . . I feel . . ." but words escaped her, and he held her close and kissed her forehead. "This whole night, everything. It's more than I ever thought. I can't believe this. How can this be so good, Fred?" Her voice was shaking, and he felt a hot tear slide onto his arm.

"It can be so good, because we are somehow good together. Don't question it, Hermione. Try one of our philosophies of life. Just enjoy it." He softly kissed her cheek, while moving his hand to stroke her hair.

As she came down from her high, Hermione became very aware that Fred was pressed close against her, and that particular parts of him were pressed more firmly than others. In the dark, after what he had just done to her, she felt brave.

"Fred, is that, um, you?"

He chuckled at her question. "Yes, Hermione. That's me. Do you believe me now when I say I am attracted to you?" She nodded shyly, which he could feel against him.

"Does it. . . er, does it hurt?" she asked softly, feeling very naïve.

Fighting back more laughter, knowing it would only embarrass her, he grinned and said, "What, when I get hard, you mean? No. No more than when your nipples come to attention." He demonstrated by cupping one in his hand, feeling her nipple pucker and harden beneath him.

"Oh. I suppose that's silly, isn't it?" she said in a rueful tone. "Could I, I mean, if it's all right, could I, um." Hermione gulped, and could practically feel Fred's patient amusement. "Could I touch it?" she finally squeaked out.

Fred sighed with a bit of satisfaction. "Yes, if you'd like to. Would you like the lights back on?" Hermione shook her head quickly. Fred rolled to his back, and Hermione sat up on her knees, feeling timid. She didn't want to hurt him and she wasn't sure what to do. "Here. It might be easier if I just got undressed. Hang on." He pulled his shirt over his head in a quick motion, and skimmed his pants and pyjamas off quickly, and flung the lot onto the floor.

Hermione was grateful for darkness, it made her feel more brave. Still, she sat there a little stiffly, until Fred reached out his left hand and took her right hand in his. He guided her hand to his jutting erection, and exhaled loudly when she touched him. His hand dropped back, resting on her forearm, as she lightly explored the length of him, ran her fingers down and then back up, explored the tip of his cock. He closed his eyes and tried not to let the featherlight touches drives him mad. He sucked in breath through his teeth when she lightly touched his balls and she quickly pulled her hand away.

"Sorry. I'm sorry!" she exclaimed, horrified that she'd hurt him. His hand squeezed her arm.

"No, no, you didn't do anything wrong. It's just that that feels really, really good. And if you don't stop soon, I'll have to take care of this."

"Oh." Hermione was quiet for a moment. "Would you like me to help?" Her voice held hesitation.

Fred groaned. "I'm not sure you're really ready for that, Mione, but I'm not really feeling as if I want to say no."

"I'm not sure what to do," she said honestly. "Tell me."

"Last chance to back out, Hermione," Fred's voice was strained, and Hermione didn't say anything. "All right then. The way you were touching me is very arousing. But to really get me off, you'll have to stroke more firmly, establish some rhythm. You'll want some lubrication, it's easier for you, and it feels better. Less friction." Fred reached for his wand, and then Hermione's hand and muttered a spell under his breath. She suddenly felt a cool, slick substance in her palm, and she allowed Fred to guide her hand back to his penis. She was less hesitant now, encircling it, moving slowly up and down the shaft. "Oh, Mione, that is incredible. Keep doing that." His breathing quickened.

Hermione's other hand reached out and softly touched his balls, palming them, rolling them around. Fred groaned. "Is that ok?" she asked, a little fearfully.

"Merlin, yes," he breathed. "Move a little faster, just a little more pressure." She complied and he grunted. "Merlin, Hermione, when you touch me there, it feels so good. Oh, gods. Yes, keep doing that. Just a little faster." Hermione increased her pace, concentrating fully on the task before her. Fred was no longer guiding her, but his small, low sounds he made were encouraging, so she continued to stroke him in a quick rhythm. Then, as she was beginning to feel she was doing it wrong, Fred's hips moved beneath her, and Fred gave a strangled cry and Hermione felt the shudder in her hand and a sticky warmth and withdrew her hand. Fred was breathing heavily, but reached for his wand and cast a quiet _scourgify_ on himself and on Hermione's hands, then took one and brought it to his lips.

"Thank you, Hermione. That was bloody marvelous." He drew in a deep breath. "I'm going to get dressed and turn the lights on again, if that's ok."

"Yes, only, I'm not sure where my shirt's gone." Hermione started to laugh, it just struck her as funny that after what they'd just done for each other that they weren't ready to see each other naked, but she knew she'd be more comfortable with her shirt.

"Some witch you are. _Accio Hermione's shirt_." It flew into his hands and he tossed it to her. She just shook her head and pulled it on. She honestly wasn't sure where her wand had gone either. Fred summoned his clothes and put them back on, then the lights flared on again. Hermione spotted her wand on the bed covers and retrieved it.

Fred clambered back onto the bed and pulled Hermione into his arms and kissed her thoroughly, then released her to study her flushed face. "You are so fucking beautiful," he said with so much feeling. "Thank you for staying tonight. This has been one of the most incredible nights I've ever had."

"Me too, Fred," Hermione whispered. They sat closely together for sometime, Fred holding Hermione, Hermione allowing herself to be cradled and held close, a comfortable silence between them. The spell was broken when Hermione yawned.

"Are you fagged then?" Hermione nodded. "Where do you want to sleep, or rather, where do you want me to sleep?"

"Here, of course. Stay here with me. You can't go now."

"Right, I won't. I'm just going to turn off the lights in the flat, yeah? You go ahead and get ready for bed." Fred moved towards the door, but Hermione stopped him.

"Er, do you have a side you normally sleep on?"

Fred shrugged. "I guess I normally sleep on the side closer to the door, but I'm not fussed over it." She nodded. Taking advantage of his absence, Hermione slipped in to use the loo and brush her teeth. Casting a spell that caused her hair to braid itself so that it wouldn't tangle badly, she stepped back to the bed. She was reclined in bed, covers drawn up to her armpits, hands folded primly when Fred returned. He took his own turn in the loo, and climbed into bed, turning off the lights again with a wave of his wand, which he then set next to the bed on a nightstand.

They lay on their respective sides, quietly, unsure whether or not to acknowledge the other person's presence. Finally Fred rolled over onto his side and said, "Bugger this. It's weird to lay over here ignoring you. Budge over this way, Mione. Do you mind if I hold you?"

"No, not at all." Hermione's voice was soft, and pleased. She moved her pillow closer to the center of the bed, and scooted towards Fred.

"Do you normally sleep on your side or your back or your stomach? I normally sleep on my side. Comes from growing up sharing a bed with George, I think."

"It just depends. I usually fall asleep on my side, but wake up on my back. I should warn you, Ginny says I'm a restless sleeper. But I don't think I snore."

"Thank the gods for small favors," Fred said teasingly. He nudged Hermione until she rolled to her side, then spooned behind her. His hand rested on her stomach, and she snuggled into him.

"This is really perfect, Fred. Good-night." She yawned again and closed her eyes.

"Good night, Mione," he returned softly. He held her, feeling her pulse beating under his hand, listening to her breathing slow and knew there was no longer any question about falling in love with Hermione Granger. He had already leapt headfirst off that precipice; but it wasn't as ill-conceived as he might have thought. She was here with him, in his bed, wearing his ring, and falling for him too.

It should have been little surprise that such a lovely evening would be interrupted.

-o0o-

_A/N: **-laughs- **I caught some flack last chapter for what some folks considered a cliffhanger; I'm sure there are some folks even more upset over this. Sorry? You'll be more upset when I tell you that even though chap 8 is completed, it's not going up until I complete chap 18. Good news? I'm nearly done with 17, so the hope is it won't be long outside the normal posting schedule. But I need to maintain some spacing, as I've gone back and revised chapters based on what happens in future chapters to maintain the integrity and internal logic of the story. I couldn't be more pleased with how many people seem to be enjoying this, and can only hope it continues, now that things have been taken to a more physical level. I hope the US folks are enjoying a pleasant holiday weekend, and cheers to everyone else!_


	8. Chapter 8

_Disclaimer: Much as I wish to claim these lovely creations for my own, alas and alack, that would be untrue. And as we all know, I must not tell lies. I make no profit from this endeavor, save an enormous sense of satisfaction that someone besides myself enjoys it. _

-o0o-

Chapter 8

-o0o-

A shrill, unearthly, ear-splitting sound went off around two in the morning. Hermione shrieked and tried to disentangle herself from the mass of limbs and blankets in which she was wrapped. Finally locating her wand underneath her pillow, she removed part of the obstacle by banishing the bedcovers and then Fred had rolled onto his feet, his own wand in his hand.

"What the bloody hell is that noise?" Hermione called out.

Fred waved his wand and the sound was instantly muted. Another wave and a muttered incantation made the lights glow dimly and he motioned to Hermione to keep quiet. "It's the wards. Someone is trying to break them." His face was grim.

"What does that mean? Fred?" Hermione's voice was frightened, but she was remaining as level as possible.

"It means we're getting our shoes on and getting the hell out of here. We'll floo to Bill's and close the floo behind us." Hermione followed Fred out into the living room. "Keep low and quiet. We don't know who is watching or what they can see or hear."

"Why not apparate then?"

"Because apparition can be traced if they are expecting it and cast the tracing spell. If we close the floo connection, they may guess where we've gone, but they won't know."

"Who is they?"

"I don't know, Hermione, and I'm not eager to stay and find out. The wards are fairly complex; Bill designed them himself, but the fact they've broken through to set off the alarm worries me. Let's go. You go first, you don't have the password to close the connection."

"Promise you'll be right behind me." Hermione's eyes were haunted. Fred nodded and made a shooing motion. She threw the pinch of floo powder into the grate and whispered clearly, "Shell Cottage." and then was spinning away as she heard a loud humming noise and then she was stumbling into Bill and Fleur's living room.

She quickly lit her wand and called out for Bill and Fleur, waiting for the fireplace to light green again. Her heart was pounding in her throat, and Bill finally walked into the living room, wand in hand, confusion on his face.

"Hermione? What on earth are you doing here at this hour?" Fleur came in behind him, tying a robe and looking less then friendly.

"The wards at the shop went off. Fred said someone was trying to bring them down. He sent me through here. Said he'd be right behind me." Her words came quickly tumbling out, the fear evident.

"Wait, the wards at the shop? I designed those wards. What exactly did you hear?"

"We were woken up by a loud shrieking noise, which was bloody awful, and just before I came through, I heard a humming." Bill cursed under his breath. "What is taking Fred so long? He said he was going to close the connection behind us and be right here." She was close to whimpering, all of this feeling horrifyingly familiar. Fleur came around and wrapped her arms around Hermione.

"Shhhh. It will be fine, be calm. Be calm. Let's go into the kitchen and make some tea. Fred will be here soon," soothed Fleur in her accented English. Before Hermione could object, the grate turned green and Fred stumbled through, coughing.

"Fred, what happened?" Bill's voice was urgent.

"I reinforced the wards, with the spell you gave me and as soon as I did, I heard an explosion in the Alley. I came through and closed the connection then." Hermione flung herself at Fred, throwing her arms around him and bursting into tears. "Hey, love, it's all right. I'm all right. Everything is going to be fine, love." He soothed her, rubbing her back until she calmed down, while Bill and Fleur exchanged a glace and Fleur moved into the kitchen.

"What was the explosion, d'you think?" Bill asked in a low, concerned voice.

"I think they tried to set the shop on fire. The wards would have prevented that, and the bounceback could have done it." Fred was grim. "I've got to get George. Hermione, will you be fine with Fleur for a few minutes? I'm going to apparate to Angie's flat and wake up George." She wiped her eyes and nodded. Fred sat her down on the divan, and Fleur appeared levitating a tea tray before her. Bill and Fred nodded in some mutual fraternal understanding and then Fred turned on the spot and was gone.

Now in more control of herself, Hermione was frowning in thought. "You built wards to resist fire?"

Bill nodded. "Fire, explosions, as many types of magical entry as I could manage. They had a lot of work to repair after the Death Eaters broke in, and they've got proprietary stock and formulae in the workroom that could be worth money. The wards are set to alert the twins if anyone tries to tamper with them. What concerns me is that the particular noise you heard indicates someone probing the wards and testing for weaknesses and trying to find the intertwined magic."

Hermione gasped. "Can they do that?" Fleur handed her a mug of tea and stood before her, hands on hips in an unconsciously good imitation of Molly Weasley, until Hermione drank some of the scalding liquid. The fact it was as scalding as it was indicated it was probably not strictly tea, but likely contained a liberal dose of medicinal fire whiskey.

Bill looked a little smug. "Keep in mind all wards can eventually be broken by someone with enough resources, knowledge intelligence and luck. But those are some of the most complex I ever designed. Fleur couldn't break through at all, and she's become at least as good a curse breaker as me, possibly even better. The key is that they are anchored in multiple balanced locations and each wardstone houses a piece of each layer of wards. To bring down all the wards simultaneously would be impossible unless you were inside the wards. It would take decades for someone to work out that little puzzle and then break through far enough to figure out where the central wardstone is. And then they'd have a pretty problem getting any further."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "Bill, that's incredible. How did you manage it so quickly?"

"I'd been working on them for about a year, actually. We just weren't able make as much progress because of the war. The twins and the shop were obviously under surveillance, and anything more than standard wards would have drawn the attention of the Ministry. But Kingsley granted the twins ministerial permission to erect stronger wards, based on their status as war heroes and potential revenge targets and based on the shop's status as a Defense Against the Dark Arts research institute."

Hermione's eyebrows rose and she snorted. "Research Institute?"

At that moment, twin pops announced the arrival of Fred and George, the latter of whom looked shaken.

"Angie's getting dressed, and she'll floo through in a moment." George said. Fred sank down next to Hermione and put a comforting arm around her shoulder and pulled her close, then accepted tea from Fleur.

"What about the Burrow? Has anyone tried to breach their wards?" Hermione had only just realized that it might not be just about the shop.

Bill jumped up immediately. "I'll floo over as soon as Angelina comes through. I'd better go get dressed though." There was a tense quiet, as everyone looked at each other, and they all jumped a bit when the grate flared to life and Angelina stepped out. She immediately went to George and sat on the arm of the chair he occupied. Bill stepped back in and went straight to the Burrow.

"So we'll have to check the shop," George said.

"No, Aurors will have to check the shop," Angelina said with a scowl. "You aren't going back there until it's safe."

"I'm certain the wards weren't actually breached," Fred said mildly.

"It does not matter, Fred. Bill said that it sounds as if someone were probing the wards. That is of concern, and no one should go back there without reinforcements. We can all go together when Bill returns, but after the Aurors are contacted. If nothing else, we contact Percy." Fleur's voice was firm.

"I was thinking maybe Fred, Bill and I could go look it over and meet the Aurors there."

"Oh, and leave the women behind to sip their tea?" Hermione asked acidly.

"Fleur's right. We're not doing anything until Bill gets back and we know the Burrow is safe. Once he gets back, we'll make decisions. I know for certain no one is sleeping there again tonight. Hermione and I will crash at the Burrow, if it's safe." Hermione pursed her lips at his statement, but was otherwise quiet.

It was not long before Bill returned. "No signs of troubles with the wards there. Dad was quite surprised to see me. He said he'd rouse Percy and have him call the Aurors. They'll do an initial sweep for magical signatures and wait to do a more in depth analysis tomorrow. Once they've given us the all-clear, we'll head over."

"So if the Burrow was fine, what the hell was this?" George leaned forward, a frown on his face.

"I don't know. I'm concerned because of the potential for probing the wards to that extent. If it were just someone like Dung checking to see if they could make a quick knut, they'd not have been probing so deeply."

"Bill, what about the rumors at the bank?" Fleur's voice was thoughtful.

"Rumors?" Hermione asked, something niggling at the back of her mind.

"Yes, I'd not paid much attention to them before. But there are rumors of additional Death Eaters and sympathizers who aren't in Azkaban awaiting trial getting together. Possibly hoping to form an underground organization, much as they did after the first war."

"What the bloody hell would that have to do with our shop?" Fred's voice was filled with frustration.

"Who knows?" George grimaced and rubbed his face in disgust. Before anyone else could talk, there was a shot of silver which formed into Arthur Weasley's patronus, informing them it was safe to apparate to the perimeter of the shop.

Everyone stood up, but Bill raised his hand. "Wait. There is no need to make it a bloody circus. I'll go because I built the wards, and I can run some quick diagnostic scans. Fred and George, you lot should come, as it's your shop."

Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but Fred put his finger across her lips. "Mione, please stay here. Not because you aren't an eminently capable witch, because we all know you are. Just because Bill's right that we don't all need to be there. George and I know the store and flat better than you do, so we can tell more quickly if anything is wrong. Then we can go to the Burrow and back to bed, yeah?"

Hermione sighed, but nodded her acquiescence. She took his face between her hands and kissed him quickly on the lips. "Be careful, Fred. I mean it." George and Angelina shared a similar moment, and then they were all gone with soft cracks.

"Well, that's us told then," Angelina snorted, before collapsing back on the chair and yawning widely. "Sorry, Fleur, I'm completely knackered after today."

"Fred was really worried. I'm not sure I've ever seen him so worried." Hermione bit her lip, and tried to remember the snippet of information relating a ward breach or repair. She was tired and worried and couldn't concentrate. None of this made sense at all.

"Eh, Fred has been more, mmmm, jumpy? Yes, that is the word, since his recovery. It will take time." Fleur gave a Gallic shrug.

"George said something to me about that as well, that he's been sleeping better."

"Yeah, it's was bloody awful there for awhile. Nightmares every bloody night. George was practically sleeping in his bed, it was the only way he would calm down. Poor bloke." Angelina shook her head. "But George is right. Fred's been more cheerful lately. He looks forward to you being there, and is a lot quieter when you're gone. He's got it bad for you, girl." Angelina had a knowing glint in her eye.

Hermione didn't say anything, just pondered that for a moment before reaching for her tea again. The movement made her new ring twinkle, and Fleur finally noticed it.

"Ah, cherie, perhaps it is mutual, no? What is that I see on your hand, Hermione?" She raised a haughty eyebrow over her twinkling blue eyes.

Angelina looked where Fleur was looking and spotted the ring as well, her jaw dropping. "Queen Mab's potions! Hermione! You weren't wearing that when we went shopping."

"Er, no. Fred gave it to me this evening. We were talking, and we admitted we seem to be falling for each other, and then he proposed to me."

"C'est romantique," Fleur sighed with what seemed like satisfaction. "I am pleased for you, Hermione. I never thought you and Ron were a good match." Hermione blushed.

Angelina demanded to see the ring more closely, and Hermione obliged. "What sort of stone is it? It's really beautiful."

"Fred told me it was a green amethyst. I was just so surprised I didn't ask much about it. I never realized how much went into choosing rings; Muggles usually just have diamonds."

"Amethyst for passion and love, green emphasizing friendship and diamonds for constancy. What a fantastic choice, given your situations. Who knew old Freddy was so sentimental? I'm so glad things have gone so well. We'd been concerned for him."

"I wouldn't have predicted it either. But, he's so kind and he makes me laugh, and he always makes me feel so good about myself." Hermione shrugged a bit, but her happiness was clear.

"And he's good in bed," Angelina said with a sly smile. Hermione blushed brightly and her eyes widened. "Well, I know he's a good kisser, which I know he'll already have told you. And you forget, Hermione. I've been shagging his identical twin for three years now." She winked at Hermione, who threw her head back and laughed, while Fleur merely shook her head in amusement.

The tension was then abated, and the witches talked quietly while they waited for the wizards to return with news. Hermione was yawning widely by the time the crack of apparition made her jump. The door opened and Bill entered, the twins behind him. Hermione was surprised by the relief she felt at seeing Fred whole again.

"There wasn't much to find. Very few traces left. I ran a quick diagnostic series of spells over the wards." Bill sighed a bit and rubbed his face wearily. "There's something there. I'm not entirely sure what it is yet. I don't think we're supposed to find it. Some kind of monitoring spell, I think. The Aurors didn't notice it, just reassured us all was well." He grimaced.

"Yeah, one prat told us a cat probably set them off. A bloody cat, of all things," George snorted. "Fred pointed out that a cat is unlikely to set off a bloody explosion, and there was evidence of one. It'll be at least a day before we hear anything more concrete than that."

"Well, they don't know how the wards are built, so they don't know what you heard. Regardless, we're going to have a take a closer look and be careful about how we move. It's clear to me that this wasn't about breaking into the shop so much as something else. I think the explosion was just a way to try and cover up what they were doing when they tripped the wards."

"Yeah, we'll figure it out later. George, will you owl Verity and tell her to stay home? Hermione and I will go sleep at the Burrow and then we'll meet you at the shop around ten o'clock or so."

There was general agreement and George and Angelina apparated back to her flat and Fred wrapped his arms around Hermione and spun them away as Fleur moved the tea things back to the kitchen. They landed with a pop outside the Burrow, but Fred didn't release her. Instead he hugged her to him as close as he could, kissing the top of her head.

"I am so sorry if I scared you. It just scared the fuck out of me that someone might be trying to get in and I wanted you to be safe." Hermione held Fred as tightly as he was holding her.

"I was worried. But you were right; we're both fine. Let's go get some sleep, Fred."

"Mione, love, I am most sorry that I won't get to wake up next to you. I was really looking forward to that," he said, real regret coloring his voice. Hermione leaned back to see his face.

"Says who? I'm sleeping in your room. After all, we wouldn't want to wake Ginny. Especially since I fear finding Harry in her bed." She gave Fred a smirk to rival one of his own and he grinned down at her.

"Shall we then?" He held her hand as walked to the front porch and entered the kitchen, only to find Molly Weasley sitting calmly at the table, sipping a cup of tea.

"Your father's not back just yet, though he sent his Patronus to say he'd be on his way soon. What did you boys find then?"

"Not much. The wards were probed and Bill thinks he may find something else when he and Fleur take a closer look, but he didn't want to do it now while he's tired. No one is staying there until they get checked out, so we came back over here. Hope you don't mind Mum."

Molly's lips pursed slightly. "Of course not, dear. Will George be joining us?"

"Nah, he's staying at Angie's flat," Fred's voice was carefree, but he was carefully watching his mother's face.

"That makes sense, of course. And where will you pair be sleeping then?" Hermione darted a look at Fred and bit her lip. Fred just raised an eyebrow.

"My room of course."

Molly hmm'd noncommittally. "I suspected as much when I saw the ring. I suppose it's no use at this point to try and forbid it, not when it's one of my twins and the smartest witch of her class," she said, a touch of humor in her voice. "Go on to bed, I'm sure you are quite exhausted. I'll wake you for breakfast, shall I?" She picked up her cup and sipped it, amusement dancing in her eyes.

Fred just shook his head and tugged a shocked Hermione towards the stairs. They climbed together and quietly closed the door to the twin's room behind them. Hermione yawned widely, but pulled out her wand and enlarged the bed and bedding farthest from the door with a swish of her wand.

"Fred?" she asked as he duplicated the pillow and handed it to her.

"Yeah?" he asked as he turned down the covers for her.

"Did your mum just tell us it was fine to sleep in the same bed?" Fred slid in and moved to the side along the wall.

"Yeah. She's not really as scary as she acts, you know. Trick is always to stop her before she gets a full head of steam and can't see straight. Come on Hermione, get into bed." She obliged, sliding in and sighing contentedly as he wrapped her up. It was difficult to believe that they'd only begun sharing a bed hours before, given how comfortable she was now. They drifted off again, secure in each others arms.

-o0o-

Hermione had slept well; better than she could remember sleeping since the war. And she was having the most wonderful dream, with the most delicious feelings coursing through her. Then as her senses became more engaged, she realized the wonderful sensations were not just a dream, that she was in bed with Fred and his hand was cupping her breast underneath her (his) t-shirt and he was rubbing his thumb over nipple and kissing and licking her neck. She felt his warm breath near her ear as he gently bit her ear lobe and whispered, "Mione, I know you are awake." She shivered and he chuckled lowly.

She rolled over to face him, and he was fully awake, his eyes twinkling down at her. She smiled shyly at him. "Good morning, Fred."

He leaned down to kiss her but she crinkled her nose, worried that he might notice her morning breath. He just winked at her and kissed her thoroughly anyway, his enthusiasm at waking up beside her catching. Her hand snuck under his shirt, to touch his stomach and they were well and truly snogging. His hands were roaming her body freely and for the first time she didn't tense up, but allowed him to do as he pleased, feeling a pleasant ache building. Things were beginning to take a turn for the serious, and Fred's hands were poised to remove the shirt entirely when a loud knock came at the door, freezing them in their tracks.

"Fred, Hermione, time to get up! Breakfast will be on the table shortly!"

Fred rolled onto his back and groaned at the interruption, and Hermione burst into giggles at the overly tragic expression on his face. She stretched, thrusting her chest forward, making him groan again and reach for her, but she simply slid away, planting a smacking kiss on his cheek.

"I really enjoyed the wake-up, Fred." Then she walked into the hallway and saw Ginny, Harry and Ron all leaning over the banisters staring. "Good morning everyone. I'm going to go ahead and use the loo." She walked calmly to the bathroom and shut the door loudly and saw herself in the mirror, looking disheveled and flushed and well, snogged. She fought down embarrassment at being caught snogging her fiancé, and quickly began her morning ablutions, conjuring a toothbrush, as hers was still at the flat, and washing her face and releasing what hair remained intact in her braid.

There was a knock at the door and she opened it to reveal Harry on the other side, a bundle of clothes and a towel in hand, making it clear he was seeking the shower. He raised a questioning eyebrow, which she returned with her own raised eyebrow and stepped aside to let him into the loo while she went to find some clothing in Ginny's room and borrow her brush.

-o0o-

Fred lay back against the pillow, knowing it would be some time before he was able to get to the loo, and reveled in his own happiness for a moment. Something significant had shifted between them last night, and it wasn't just physical; though, that was a really bloody great development, in his estimation. It was more that the confident woman he saw at other times was now looking at him with trust and affection. He was beginning to think that the marriage law may be the best thing that could have happened to him.

For some time, he had watched his twin brother with Angelina, saw how happy they were, how much in love. Angie was kind, seeming to understand intuitively that there was something of a packaged deal when taking a twin. Fred had worried some about the woman he would be matched with and how she would take his relationship with George. George mattered just about more than anyone else. The time during which he hovered between life and death, that was what he most remembered; how it felt being cut off from George. It hadn't been painful, exactly, save for that. In fact, when he relived it in his dreams, it wasn't the wall falling on him he dreamt of, it was being separated from George.

What was sobering now was to realize he was beginning to feel the same way about Hermione. His concern wasn't for the shop when the ear-splitting sounds had started. It was protecting Hermione and keeping her safe at all costs. Her scent still hung in the air, and it was startling to realize that he recognized that scent. It wasn't just Hermione and whatever haircare products she used, it was the intoxicating aroma that spilled out of the cauldron when he brewed Amortentia for the love potions. He paused over that for a moment, wondering how it was possible that a potion he'd been brewing for four years could possibly have foretold his falling in love with this particular witch.

He had been thrilled last night with their encounter in the bathtub. He was especially pleased that she was willing to trust him to give her an orgasm, and the side benefit of her reciprocation had been entirely unexpected. It seemed that if he could continue easing her into things and not letting her dwell on her own inexperience that she would end up being a willing partner. He idly wondered how interested she would be in experimentation, but that was a thought for another day. Today, he needed to be less focused on Hermione and more focused on the problems in the shop. Fred and George had talked quietly while Bill ran his diagnostics and neither of them were satisfied with the outcome. Something odd was happening and they didn't like that it seemed to be targeting the shop.

Thinking it over again, with less shock and more sleep, he realized he wasn't going to be comfortable unless they warded the workroom and much more heavily warded the flat. He was even willing to consider putting the flat under a Fidelius. It seemed extreme in the post-war era, but if there was any sort of danger, he wouldn't hesitate to do it. He would ask George to start researching it immediately. Fred was decent with most charms, but George really excelled in them, as Fred did in potions. Yes, it was an idea to pursue.

The bed was empty and cold, so Fred stretched and stood up. He grimaced at his pyjamas, but didn't keep any clothes here any longer. He could borrow from Ron, or transfigure these, but he shrugged. They were meeting at the store anyway; he would reopen the Floo connection and head straight into the flat to change.

Harry poked his head into the room and said, "Loo's all yours, mate," before he ducked back out again. Hermione hadn't returned and Fred wryly assumed she was cornered by Ginny. He hoped that she would have good things to say. He knew he could expect to be grilled by George when George was less distracted, no reason to expect his nosy little sister was any less tenacious.

These thoughts in mind, Fred moved to the loo, only to find Ron had beat him there. Fred and Ron hadn't exchanged more than a few words since the matches went out; Ron had been too busy glaring at Fred reproachfully. Even now, Ron's eyes narrowed some.

"What are you doing here?"

"Waiting to use the loo, Ron. Are you going in or no?"

"Don't be so bloody thick. What is going on with you and Hermione?" Ron crossed his arms and tried to look threatening. Fred merely rolled his eyes.

"Gee, Ron, dunno. There was something in the Prophet about some law or other. Oh, that's right. The Marriage Law. Hermione and I were matched. We're getting married in less than a month. Just what do you think is going on between us?"

"All I know is Hermione never spent the night in my room. What'd you do, Fred, give her one of your love potions? Only way she'd be interested in you, innit?" Ron was glowering at Fred, and Fred was glaring back. He knew Ron was disappointed, but there was no reason to talk to him like that.

"Watch it, mate. Hermione is my fiancée, little brother, and a witch I care about very much." His jaw was set, his face grim. The very last thing he wanted to deal with right now was a lovesick puppy pining after his witch.

"What is going on here? Fred? Ron?" Hermione had walked out of Ginny's room and came upon them staring each other down.

"I dunno, Hermione, why don't you tell me? Did he give you some kind of love potion, then?"

"What?" Hermione exclaimed sharply.

"You were never willing to spend the night in my bed. 'Oh, no, Ron, can't get caught. Oh, no, it wouldn't be appropriate Ron,'" Ron's voice was high and mocking, causing Hermione to flinch. "Maybe it's just Fred you were interested in all along. Couldn't wait to jump into bed with him." Ron's voice was bitter and he spat the words at her.

Hermione's face went white, and for a moment, Fred thought she would slap him. Instead she drew a deep breath and said, "THIS, Ron. This is why I wouldn't marry you. We aren't good for each other. We constantly bring out the worst in each other. We fought all the time. You know why I'm with Fred? Because the ministry matched us. And we are good together. He doesn't pressure me all the time to do things I'm not ready for. He treats me with respect. He makes me laugh. You and I aren't compatible, Ron. If we were, we'd have been matched together. This is what I was trying to tell you. I'm sorry I hurt you Ron. But I wasn't seeing Fred behind your back and he's not giving me love potions. He's just a wonderful wizard who treats me well."

Ron's jaw twitched, but he didn't say anything else. Hermione looked at him for a moment, then turned to Fred. "I'm ready to go to the shop. I don't have an appetite any longer." She shouldered past Ron and clattered down the stairs.

Fred looked at Ron and shook his head; he was angry, and it showed. "Ron, you're a fucking arse. The only reason Hermione would be interested was a fucking love potion? Maybe, just maybe, it's because I don't fill her with doubt about the kind of person she is and how I feel about her. You had better not insult her or me again like that." Fred's voice was low and flat, and Ron was left in no doubt of how serious Fred was about Hermione.

Fred pushed past Ron and stomped down the stairs, still seething about Ron's comments. Hermione was futilely trying to convince Molly she wasn't hungry. Fred just quietly said, "Mum, she's not hungry right now. If you wrap it up for us, we'll take breakfast with us. I'm sure she'll be hungry later." Molly realized that something had happened to upset them, so she quieted down and packed up the breakfast and cast a charm over it to keep it warm. Fred thanked her and nudged Hermione and they left together.

-o0o-

Fred and Hermione apparated to the alley behind the store, and Fred quickly and silently lowered the wards to let them enter and replaced them as soon as they were in the lounge of the flat. No sooner had he finished than Hermione began venting her anger.

"How dare he? How bloody dare he suggest that? Love potions? Cheating on him with you? Maybe if he weren't always, always trying grope me and slobber all over me and maybe if he listened for one sodding moment to what I were saying, I might have considered him preferable to some bloody stranger." She abruptly stopped and sat down on the couch and burst into tears.

Fred set the bundle from his mother on the table and then sat down next to Hermione and pulled the weeping woman into his arms. He brushed her hair over and over, rubbed soothing circles on her back until she sniffled and sat up. With watery eyes, she looked at Fred, and voice trembling, said, "I'm sorry, Fred. I don't want you to think, I mean, I don't love Ron. Everything I said yesterday is true. I am happy with you, I am. I'm sorry. He just upset me." She would have continued, but Fred put a finger to her lips.

"Hermione," he whispered, "shhhhh. It's ok. I understand. Ron is a sodding wanker."

"But -"

"No. I understand, Mione." His blue eyes, filled with compassion and warmth, looked directly into her brown, watery eyes. None of the hurt or recrimination that she expected to see, that had so filled Ron's face. She took a shuddering breath, and leaned forward and kissed his lips lightly.

They continued to look at each other as they kissed, lightly, sweetly. They watched each other as the kiss deepened, as their tongues reached and stroked and fought for possession. Fred's hand reached up and cupped Hermione's cheek, then moved to the back of her neck, where he pulled her closer to him. Their tongues danced with urgency, and finally their eyes closed, and they were overswept by the sensation of each other in that moment. Hermione was the one to break away, needing to take a deep breath. Fred looked at her and stood up abruptly.

"I'm going to the bedroom. I'd really, really like to continue this in there." He walked down the hall without another word. Hermione frowned for a moment, then shrugged. She wasn't going to let her worries stop her at this point. She followed him into his bedroom and shut the door. Fred was sitting on the foot of the bed, his head in his hands. She hesitated by the door, unsure what he was doing or thinking, but he looked up, smirked, and cast an imperturbable charm at the door behind her. He stood up, and she took a step towards him. There was a pause as they just gazed at each other, and then Fred tore off his shirt, and stepped towards Hermione and she reached down to pull up her shirt, but a sound from Fred stopped her.

"Let me."

He closed the last of the distance between them and kissed her hungrily, his hands running through her hair and moving lightly down to her shoulders and down her arms to the hem of her shirt, which he gently skimmed up and then off. He kissed her again as his hands moved to her jeans, unbuttoning, unzipping, skimming them down, trailing kisses down her body, until he was kneeling before her, helping her step out of her trainers. He removed her jeans and socks, and hands resting at her hips, and pressed his mouth into the juncture at the apex of her thighs. Hermione gave a soft cry and swayed. Fred stood up and his eyes, dark with lust, drank her in, standing before him; soft light filtering through the curtains, falling on her and illuminating her.

She blushed, standing under his scrutiny, then reached behind her to undo her brassiere. The straps fell and she removed it and threw it on top of her clothing. That's all it took; Fred picked her up and carried her to the bed, and stretched practically on top of her. They kissed again, deeply, with abandon. Fred's hands roamed all over Hermione's body, teasing and touching. She reciprocated by touching him wherever she could, pulling him down on top of her. They ground together, an urgency overtaking them. Fred broke away and kissed Hermione's neck and the underside of her jaw, sucking hard at her collarbone, moving down to kiss her perfect breasts, his fingers sliding underneath her knickers, frantically reaching for her center, teasing her, bringing her to the cusp of orgasm. She felt instinctively that she wanted more, but as Fred moved and looked at her questioningly, she shook her head, and instead pulled him, still clothed, back on top of her. His mouth closed over hers again, and she tried to touch him, stroke him through the cloth, and he thrust against her hand. And then she pulled at him again, and they were grinding against each other in earnest, and Hermione gasped and Fred grunted and he came moments before she did. He collapsed on top of her, and they lay together, breathing heavily, damp with sweat. It was a long moment before either stirred.

"Hermione?" Fred's voice was quiet and low. He pushed himself up off of her, and resettled himself next to her.

"Yes, love?"

"You are the most incredible witch I've ever been with. I mean that." She moved so that she was draped on top of his chest, and could see his face. "I just want to be with you. I love being near you. Talking to you, watching you work, eating with you. I want to be with you all the time."

"Me too, Fred," she said softly. "I just feel really comfortable with you."

"Finally," teased Fred. "If I'd known all it would take was a couple of orgasms, I'd have done that back in school." Hermione rolled her eyes. "We're going to have to get up at some point. George and Bill are probably here already. I need to shower. Actually, we probably both need to shower. You interested?" He cocked an eyebrow at her challengingly. She nodded hesitantly, but before he could get up, she stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"Fred, what was this? I mean . . ." She looked at him questioningly.

He took her hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss. "This is two people who are very attracted to each other, in the midst of high emotion. Believe me, Mione, make-up sex is going to be fucking fantastic." He gave her a wicked grin and she shook her head, but laughed anyway. Then they moved into the bathroom where Fred started the shower with a wave of his wand.

Fred stripped completely and walked into the shower first, Hermione following more slowly. He turned and she blushed, but couldn't stop staring at him. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, a smirk on his face. Hermione reached out tentatively and touched him, following his length, shocked when he began to harden beneath her touch. The smirk was gone now, and Fred groaned.

"Oh, Mione, I wish we had time. I can promise we will be spending some time in here very, very soon. Now, turn around and I'll wash your hair." She complied, and enjoyed his attention. They soaped each other up amidst teasing and laughter and frank appreciation, and quickly rinsed off and stepped out. Hermione cast drying charms and Fred summoned towels, which they wrapped around themselves before sharing another kiss, and they returned to the bedroom, where there was loud knocking on the door.

"Oi, I know you're in there, lazy sod. Get up and come out here. Bill and I are waiting on you, you wanker."

Fred winked at Hermione, and opened the door. George had a clear view of Fred and Hermione wearing only towels. Hermione yelped and cried out "Fred!" in an aggrieved tone, but he just laughed.

"Yes, George? You were calling me?" George was now wearing a grin identical to Fred's.

"Er, yeah. Sorry to interrupt. Bill is here, Fleur should be here soon, we're ready to start when you two are. Good morning, Hermione. Lovely to see so much of you."

"OUT," screeched Hermione, glaring at Fred.

He calmly said, "Tell Bill we'll be out in a mo." George walked away, whistling loudly and Fred shut the door.

"Frederick Weasley, I swear to -" But Hermione was cut off by Fred giving her a resounding kiss and whispering in her ear that he promised to make it up to her later.

_A/N: See, now that wasn't too late, was it? From this point until I take a break or finish, the next chapter will go up once the correspondent chapter is complete (for example, I just finished chapter 18, hence the reason I've posted chapter 8). I can't tell you how delighted I am at the response this has received; I only hope I can maintain the level as the story progresses. Special thanks to all of you have taken a moment to review; it brightens my day considerably. Enjoy this chapter, and cross fingers that the next is written quickly!_


	9. Chapter 9

_Disclaimer: It's not really stealing them if I return them, right? I'm just borrowing these characters from JK Rowling et al; I'll put them back, I promise. In new and improved condition, even._

-o0o-

Chapter 9

-o0o-

Hermione emerged from the room looking neat and proper, pink-cheeked but chin held high. Fred followed looking quite satisfied. Bill tried to hide his grin, but George made no such pretense. Only a warning look from Fred stopped him teasing Hermione mercilessly.

Fred calmly set out the breakfast Molly had packed, which was enough for all of them, and they sat down to discuss the problem of the traces left in the wards. Fleur finally appeared through the floo, which George had re-opened, and she and Bill went downstairs to begin scanning the wards more thoroughly.

"Georgie, I was thinking that we might want to consider a Fidelius for the flat. What do you think?"

George leaned back and considered. "What will that really do though? If the store stays open, won't it be obvious the flat is there?"

"I'm not sure. I don't know enough about the Fidelius. You'd have to cast it if we did it, and I'm only suggesting it if we can't figure out what's happening here. You are the genius with charms."

"Might be worth considering. I'll read up, in case. You are awfully quiet, Hermione."

She frowned. "There was something bothering me last night, I only just remembered. It was when Bill and Fleur were telling us about the rumors at the bank. That's not the only time I've heard about underground Death Eaters or about ward breaches or something requiring repair. It's frustrating me that I can't place it."

"You think someone was targeting us, Mione?"

"You obviously do. And if they were testing the wards or probing them, then yes, it was targeted and deliberate. I just don't know why. I suppose we'll know more when they isolate the spell." She stirred her tea without noticing, her mind clearly running furiously.

"I also think we need to better ward the workroom. I don't want anyone to be able to walk in unnoticed and plant something there. Or worse, hide in there. We've been too lax about security, brother mine."

George looked a little chagrined as he acknowledged Fred's point. "So what do we do then? Verity will need access, and you and I and Hermione. And anyone else we want to take through."

"Bill will know what's best. But you've got another sort of problem. You have got to hire more help. I've been harping at Fred about this. And more help means more access to more people, even if it's just at the register. It's going to be difficult to find someone if you aren't sure you can trust them."

"That's not a problem, actually. Freddy, Lee's interested. He can only do part time, while he's working on getting the job with WWN, but it's something, specially through Christmas. Him, we can trust." Fred's eyes lit up, and Hermione nodded. That arrangement made sense to her.

They heard footsteps on the stairs and Bill and Fleur reappeared, looking grim.

"Worse than we thought," Bill said without preamble. "It was a very tricky little spell designed to blend in and to trace the magics. Alone it couldn't have broken through the wards, but it could allow the castor to monitor the activity of the wards. If you watch long enough, you can begin to unravel, and from the patterns, you can decipher the ways to raise and lower the wards, at least in part. If they'd been standard wards, we might not have noticed it."

They exchanged looks. Someone was going to a very good deal of trouble to break through the wards they'd set, which was sobering.

"That is not all," Fleur said with a sigh. "We disabled it easily enough, but we were unable to alter the spell. Whoever cast the spell will know we found the spell and disabled it. Whether they knew that you were alerted to the wards being tampered with before, I don't know. But they will know soon."

"Malfoy Manor. This is what happened at Malfoy Manor." Hermione closed her eyes in concentration.

George started to ask, but Fred shushed him. They watched her for a moment, clearly trying to puzzle something out.

"That's what I read. The wards were attacked at Malfoy Manor about two months ago. It was dismissed as a retaliatory action. But wards were also disturbed at other, seemingly random locations, including the Montrose Magpie training facilities. And there were stories of ward repairs in other places, like St. Cecily's Magical Medical Hospital in Shropshire. Bill, when was the last time the wards at the Burrow were thoroughly checked?"

He frowned. "It's been at least three months, but they aren't dissimilar to what I set up here, so I think we'd have had warning if they'd been tampered with. I'll have Dad check them over though, to be safe."

"I'm not sure what's happening, but someone is obviously planning something. It would be a very good idea to make sure the Burrow is secure before the wedding and that Grimmauld Place will be secure."

"If you think they are targeting Harry, there wouldn't be much reason to attack the wards here," Fred said.

"Maybe or maybe not. Don't assume there is a single, straightforward goal. If someone wants to get to Harry, the easiest way is to get to his family and friends. Getting to you, or getting to me would be an easy way to do it. Possibly it's an organization of dark wizards or left over Voldemort sympathizers who is seeking revenge against war heroes. Or maybe it's a sophisticated theft ring. We don't have enough information at this point, except they tipped us off and have been tipped off we know. So now we need to be a little more cautious." Hermione shrugged as if it were completely clear.

"Maybe we should gather the Order of the Phoenix again, and put out feelers and see what we can find. Coincidences do happen, and odd things may not have meaning. But it might be worth checking."

"It is a good idea anyway, Bill. The fact that wizards were so lax before is what allowed Voldemort to return to power, no?" Fleur's voice was mild, despite the harsh words.

"Yes. I'll make the rounds today. We'll want this to be quiet. And we'll need a secure place to meet."

"Before you go, Bill, we want to secure the flat and the workroom to make them inaccessible to the public. I don't want there to be any risk of someone slipping through into the workroom and hiding or making their way up to the flat."

"That's fine. Let's go downstairs then and see what we can do."

-o0o-

Two hours later, Bill felt comfortable with the wards and managed to convince Fred and George that it should be perfectly safe to stay at the flat again. Hermione offered to fix lunch for everyone, but Bill and Fleur declined, citing their need to consult with Arthur and Kingsley about calling the Order together. George and Fred took her up on her offer, though, and they sat together around a light meal of pumpkin soup and freshly baked poppy seed muffins.

Over lunch, they discussed security protocol and wondered further about how they might try to trace the attackers and speculated again over the motives. It was a largely fruitless conversation, frustrating in it's circular nature; the fact remained they had very little idea what was happening and who was responsible. Finally George said they may as well work as sit around, but Hermione begged off, saying she needed to study, since she hadn't done anything the previous day.

She and Fred exchanged a long kiss that had George making catcalls before the end, and then Hermione floo'd to the Burrow, promising to return the following day at the normal time. George raised an eyebrow at Fred, who simply ignored him and went downstairs to the workroom.

"Freddy, come on. You can't avoid talking about it to me forever, you know," George stated matter of factly as he followed Fred downstairs.

"No, probably not. You are a nosy sod, aren't you?" Fred couldn't help the slow smile that was spreading across his face.

"I see you gave her the ring well ahead of time. Didn't like my plans for a firework display in the end, hmmm?"

Fred gave his brother a look of affection mixed with aggravation. "No, it was a brilliant plan. I just didn't count on Mione in it, and her falling for me as well. It was just the right time last night. So I gave it to her."

"Well, it looks good, brother. You choose well. Does she like it?" Fred shrugged and began assembling ingredients for acne-fighting potions, which they distilled into pastes and soaps. George took the hint and began pulling out wood pieces that he could transfigure to look like wands.

"I think so. She said it was very beautiful and she cried a bit. I offered to exchange it, but she refused."

"That's a good sign then. I remember being quite terrified that Angie would hate the ruby, it was very nerve-wracking."

"Oh, don't think I don't remember, Gred. You were a bloody wreck for a week and you made me listen to your proposal five times." George smiled ruefully while Fred looked smug.

"Yeah, well, she said yes, which was the important thing. You had no reason to be nervous as you are legally obligated to marry her. So, that aside, how goes your attempts to seduce the lovely and apparently quite leggy Miss Granger?" George wagged his eyebrows at his twin, who responded by throwing a piece of wadded parchment at his head.

"I am not giving you details, Georgie. Forget about it." Fred retrieved a copper cauldron and started it over a low flame and pulled on dragon hide gloves to cut open a stored bubotuber pustule.

"Hey! I've always told you about me and Angie!" George sounded hurt.

"Yeah, but I never asked for that amount of detail, then, did I? Nope, Mione would hex my bollocks off if I gave you details. But suffice it say that I have every reason to think we will get along swimmingly well in the bedroom. And the loo. And the lounge." George was laughing by the time Fred finished. "Merlin, Georgie, she's amazing. We haven't even shagged yet, and she still the best I've ever had."

Georgie whistled. "Oh, brother, you've got it bad. You went and fell in love." He gave him a smile that only Fred and Angelina ever saw; one of affection and approval and satisfaction, without the usual mischief and wickedness.

"That I did, Georgie. It's bloody amazing." Fred was as close to tears as George had ever seen. He slung his arm around his brother and gave him a rough sort of hug.

"Yeah it is, innit? Bout time, Freddy. Now, you'd better watch that cauldron before that potion turns purple and explodes." Fred cursed under his breath and quickly reduced the heat.

They worked together quietly for awhile, Fred continuing to brew the base for their Wonder Witch blemish products and George transfigured the sticks into realistic replicas of wands, which he would later charm with a time release to transfigure again into a goofy object.

"George, I've been thinking," Fred said.

"About the wards?"

"Yes. Something about this is bothering me. Hermione says this has been happening elsewhere, but it doesn't make sense."

"No, I agree. It's odd. There is no real pattern."

"Do you think it was a test? Our wards are some of the most complex out there. Well, Malfoy's wards are probably pretty tough, but cracking ours or the Burrow's wards would be as hard as cracking Gringott's or the Ministry's new wards, if you believe Bill."

George leaned back against the work bench, crossing his arms. "Now that is an intriguing idea, brother mine. To what purpose though? What does spying on our wards gain anyone?"

"That, I dunno. Mione's right on that score; there's not enough information. But everything points to someone trying to figure out how to disable wards, and all the places that have been hit have no connection. Some of them have explanations, but ours doesn't, beyond someone trying to watch."

"So, we try to be careful. Not much else to do and not much different than it's been for a couple of years." George shrugged his shoulders and returned to his transfiguration.

"Yeah. Georgie, please promise me that you will be careful? And that you'll have Bill take a look at Angie's wards before you move in there?" Fred's voice was quiet, strained.

"Of course, Freddy. What has you so worried though?" George was hopeful that maybe this time he would be willing to talk.

"You know as well as I do. I don't want to feel that ever again, Gred. Please be careful." Fred looked up from his cauldron, his eyes completely haunted, and George could only nod his agreement. He could never deny Fred anything after coming so close to losing him. They shared a look in which a full conversation silently took place, and returned to their work feeling more calm.

-o0o-

Harry was sitting alone on the porch when Hermione returned to the Burrow. She dropped down next to him, and hugged her knees close to her.

"Ron is at the Cannon's pitch for training, so you don't have to hide," he said mildly.

"I haven't been hiding, Harry," Hermione replied, a touch of defensiveness in her voice.

"No?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Well, maybe a little. But I like spending time at the shop, and doing something useful. And it's really necessary for me to spend time with Fred. We are getting married in less than a month, we need to get used to each other."

"But why were you here last night? Ginny said you were going to spend the night at the flat."

"No one told you about the wards? Someone attempted to breach the wards at the shop last night. They planted some sort of monitoring spell, but Bill and Fleur found it and disabled it. Fred didn't want us staying there until we were certain it was safe, so we spent the rest of the night here."

"I can't believe no one said anything!" Harry stood up and began pacing, firing questions at Hermione, his mind clearly racing, trying to piece together the oddities, but got no further than the others had.

"One thing is certain, Harry. You need to make sure Grimmauld Place is secure. You may want to cast a new Fidelius over it, given how diluted the old charm is. And you should talk with King about making sure the wedding is safe. Are your honeymoon plans secured?"

"Yes, but we're only going to be gone for four days, that's as much as the practice schedule would allow." Harry ran a hand through his messy black hair and sat down again with a sigh. "Maybe I was wrong, Hermione. Maybe I should have taken up King's offer. I just . . . wanted some time, you know?"

Hermione rested her hand on Harry's arm. "It's fine, Harry. You should be sure it's something you want to do before you commit. It's not as if you can't contribute as a member of the Order, right? It's not like I'm doing much either, revising and working at the shop. I'm not even sure what I want to do."

"I thought you had it all mapped out. You are one for plans, Hermione," Harry teased.

She just shrugged and toyed with the ring on her finger. "I thought I knew. But I also thought that I loved Ron, and we'd get married and have two lovely children, and I'd work at the Ministry in Magical Creatures or Magical Law Enforcement, and well, I'm not."

"What you do isn't that important, Hermione. You will excel at whatever you do and find some brilliant way to help people, whatever you decide to do. But your happiness is what we all care about. Even Ron, even when he's being the biggest prat in England."

"I _am_ happy, Harry. Happier than I could have imagined when this ridiculous law came about. I wonder sometimes why I never considered Fred before. He's utterly amazing and he makes me laugh and he's brilliant and hardworking and as interested in magical theories and conjunctions as I am. And he's completely gorgeous." Harry studied his friend, someone he knew well, and saw the truth of her feelings shining in her eyes.

"You are in love with him." Harry's voice was soft and pleased.

"I . . . I think maybe I am. And I'm comfortable around him and George, and Angie, even. It's different than it used to be. I do wish you and Ginny would come over; I do miss you, you know."

"Oh, we will, once we're settled and you and Fred are married. Regularly, even. Things are changing, but . . . in a good way, I think. What is it you think you'll do, Hermione?"

"I'm not sure. I really love what I've been doing in the shop. I did my first layered charms yesterday, and it was brilliant. George wants me to work with him on transfiguration and they are talking about expanding their Defense line. I never thought I'd say it, but I might be happy there. I'm still considering Potions though. I'd love to attain Master status. That's something Fred is thinking about too. I feel like there are more possibilities than I realized before."

"I'm really pleased, Mione. I just want you to be happy. I've been a little concerned about you, but it seems Fred is more than taking care of you." Hermione nodded. "That ring is beautiful, by the way. What is it, a topaz?"

"No, a green amethyst. Fred explained a little to me about how gemstones and their properties work, and it's just so beautiful. Like a calm sea, with so much blue in it. I'd not given a lot of thought to it, never realized how much thought goes into it."

"Yes, I was terribly surprised by that myself. Thank goodness for George and Bill; they took me to the jeweler and explained it all, and of course Fleur had worked all the details out from Ginny about what kind of shape and style she wanted. I was still terrified. Amethysts are for deep and passionate love and the yellow topaz is for courage and generosity. I got yellow diamonds in her wedding band though. I don't know what she's chosen for me."

"Er, do wizards typically wear gemstones? I hadn't noticed."

"Traditionally they did; often great, ridiculous, flashy things. I talked her out of that, fortunately. I'm going to be playing Quidditch after all, no need to beg to have my finger smashed! There are less flashy things, but you have to choose it on your own. They won't even let you see your partner's choices. Very odd experience."

"Oh, Hestia's hearth, I didn't know that! I knew I should have picked up a book on wizarding marriages. What on earth am I supposed to pick out for Fred? I have to consider how it might interact with potions and I don't know if he's quite the type to go for something flashy or something small. I never noticed Arthur's ring before."

"His is very small; he's got a couple of small garnets set into the band, he showed me when I asked. Garnets for constancy, strength, faith and loyalty."

"Appropriate. I know Molly has a ruby, and Angelina as well. I don't remember Fleur's ring."

"Aquamarine and diamonds, with pink sapphires in her band. Bill's is a sort of signet ring, like the Egyptian pharaoh's wore, with lapis lazuli. The wear them on their right hands though, which is how French wizards prefer it, apparently."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "You've become quite the expert, haven't you then? I can't believe you know so much. What else can you tell me about wizard bondings then?"

"And deprive you the joy of reading four or five books on the subject? Never!" Harry grinned and Hermione huffed and then smiled at him. "Bondings are for life. Your wands will be spelled to recognize each other so that you can never cause mortal danger to your bond-mate. Also, serviette color is hugely important."

Hermione laughed. "Next week. Are you ready, Harry?"

"Never been more ready for anything in my life. I'm just thankful the law gave us an excuse to get married so quickly. We were trying to figure out ways to live together without setting Molly off on a tirade." Hermione just nodded; Ginny had told her as much already. "I love her so much. She was the only thing that got me through; the hope she would be fine in the end."

"I know, Harry. I know."

"And I won't let anything happen to her now. I'll talk to her about recasting the Fidelius. Then we'll be safe and everyone will have a safe place to turn up if it comes to it. You make sure you and Fred stay safe. We all just got through the war by some miracle."

"I promise, Harry. I won't let anything happen to Fred. I've grown rather attached to him, you see."

-o0o-

The rest of the week passed quickly for Fred. He didn't get to see nearly enough of Hermione, but at least they got to work together everyday. She hadn't stayed more than half a day since the day after the ward breach; his mum and Ginny were keeping her well occupied with wedding preparations for Ginny's wedding, though she had also taken an afternoon to handwrite the invitations to their own ceremony. It was not going to be as huge a crowd as Bill and Fleur's affair had been, but neither would it be small as Ginny and Harry's would be.

He was relieved when George agreed to let Verity and Lee manage the shop for a Sunday, so they could both be at the Burrow. There was work to be done to the meadow in preparation for the wedding, but it was also his best chance to catch Hermione on her own again, which is all he really wanted to do. He was hopeful that he could convince her to spend another night at the flat before the wedding took place. It was a little unreal that she would be married to him and they would be living together. Much as he had enjoyed that evening they'd shared, he was feeling uncharacteristically nervous about whole chunks of time with her. Really, when it came down to it, he had no bloody idea how to be a husband, let alone a good one.

For now though, he had to concentrate. There were plans to be made, such as a secret honeymoon to arrange for Hermione. Fred intended to drive her insane by mentioning a surprise to her, because he knew how much she would hate not knowing what it was, and watching her try to figure it out would be amusing. Pranking Hermione required a good deal of subtlety. There could be something overt now and again to keep her on her toes, but it was far more fun when she didn't realize he was having her on. He chuckled thinking of it, as he stirred the stew on the stove before him and waited for the charm to alert him that the bread was finished baking.

"Hey Georgie?" he called to his twin who was sprawled in an armchair, flipping studiously through a book on Fidelius charms that Bill had procured for him.

"Yeah, Freddy?" came the muffled response.

"Have you thought about where you will take Angie for your honeymoon?" George did look up at that and a smirk appeared on his face.

"Not as such, why? Planning a romantic getaway with Granger? Have you considered the British Museum?" Fred laughed at the idea.

"No, you git. I want to surprise her, but we don't have much time and I don't want to go terribly far; it's too much hassle to get the paperwork in place for the international portkeys." The stew was ready, so Fred dished it up, and placed a warming charm over it while waiting for the bread.

"Hmmm. Angie wants to go someplace tropical, I know that much. And her dad's brother has a place in the Barbados we could use, apparently. November makes it more difficult, doesn't it? So bloody dreary." George stood up and stretched before ambling towards the table.

"I was sort of thinking that a little cottage or something might be nice, but then I was thinking maybe a large posh hotel would be better. I just don't know what she'd prefer." Fred leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, a frown on his face.

"A good point. Hermione's not generally the type to be impressed by grand gestures of wealth and such; she's too practical for that. At the same time, being so practical, she's likely to secretly want a bit of romance. She lived in a tent for a year, so rustic isn't likely to appeal to her, but for something like this, where you'll be intimate and she's not used to it yet, privacy will greatly appeal to her."

"That's exactly it, Georgie. And this will probably be the first time we spend any real time with each other with no agenda and no disturbances. Comfort is probably important there, but it's going to be a bit awkward, even if I do convince her to stay over again before the wedding."

"Mmmm, true. You have told her that I won't be able to move out before the end of November, right? I'll stay over at Angie's much as I can, give you lovebirds privacy and all, but I can't not stay here some." George was looking sheepish.

"She knows. And she understands us, she does. She knows we're something of a package deal. There is always, always a place for you, brother mine. Wherever I am." They looked at each other and

grinned identically, and shook on it. The charm sounded and Fred removed the bread from the oven, cast a light cooling charm over it and George levitated the stew to the table and soon they were eating.

"Hestia's hearth, Fred, I dunno how you learned to cook so well, but I am damn sure going to miss it."

"Eh, you'll be here every bleeding day sponging off our leftovers for your lunch and over half the week for dinner. Don't pretend otherwise."

George grinned appreciatively. "True enough, Freddy. I know a good thing when I see it. But back to your problem, then. As I see it, you've got two options. Let it be a surprise and hope she likes it, or find a way to do some market research without letting her in on it. Perhaps I can be of service to you there, for a price."

Fred raised an eyebrow. "And what price would that be?"

"Stay at the Burrow tomorrow so I can have the flat to myself. I need some alone time with Angie."

"Done. Now just how are you going to go about your market research, O Great One?"

"It's well past time you recognized my genius for what it is, Forge. Easy enough. I'll ask cunningly disguised questions. See how she answers. And if all else fails, beg for her help in surprising Angie."

Fred laughed appreciatively. "She'll see right through you, mate."

George raised his eyebrows challengingly. "Wager on that, then?"

Never one to back down, Fred nodded. "Stakes?"

"Loser has to test the next round of products."

"Deal." They nodded once, and then resumed eating. Fred finished first and fiddled with his spoon before broaching the question that had been on his mind all day. "George, do you worry about being married?"

"What do you mean, worry about it?"

"Well, it's a different for you, since you and Angie have been together so long. But do you worry about being a good husband? Mione and I are getting along brilliantly. I'm falling head over heels for her and the physical side is coming along splendidly. But I've never really lived with a woman. I don't know anything about it. You're the only one I've ever really lived with. What if I'm a total rubbish husband?"

"I think everyone worries about that some, specially since you'll be bonded for life. And you and Hermione have a different situation than Angelina and me, or Harry and Ginny, or Bill and Fleur. But have you ever just watched them?"

Fred shook his head.

"Then watch them tomorrow. There isn't any great secret, I don't think. Except listening and trying to do your best by each other. It'll take some adjustment, but if you love her, it'll work itself out if you just work at it. Trust me, Angie and I aren't special. We just learned that if we wanted to be together, we had to compromise on some things and not assume about others."

"It makes sense, I just haven't ever been in this situation before." George reached over and lightly punched Fred in the arm.

"None of us have been until we are. That's life mate. We'd never been shop owners until we were and we made it through that easily enough. Trust your instincts, you'll be fine. You've done really well with Hermione so far." Fred nodded. It was true enough, but it raised a funny feeling in him. A desire to see her again . . . he missed her. It was absurd, they had worked together just a few hours ago. But there was a pull in his stomach, making him wish he were with her.

"George, you want the flat tonight too?" Fred asked abruptly.

"Ah, I see how it is. Ditching your brother for some bird." George's blue eyes twinkled as he winked at his twin.

"Sod off, George. I just want to see her. Do you think there is any place I could find flowers this time of night?"

-o0o-

_A/N: Well, chapter 19 isn't quite finished, but it's close enough I felt comfortable posting this. Something is certainly happening, but no one is quite sure what, eh? Hope you enjoyed it! I hope to maintain this rough schedule, but it really does just depend. In addition to the other fic I've posted, I've two others in progress that I really enjoy working on. I go where inspiration strikes, and while I try to focus on this one especially for all of you lovely readers who've been so kind to return each chapter, it can be a bit abrupt to switch back and forth between the pieces. While they center around the same characters, each piece is different and has a different focus and the characters are all at least a little different, despite sharing names and physical characteristics. It can take a bit to get back into the right frame of mind. This week was especially jarring as I jumped from 'Afterwards' (which is much, much darker than this piece, I realized belatedly) to 'Belonging' (on an especially light-hearted bit). I was ready to pull my hair out, it seemed suddenly to be so cheesy and fluffy. Fortunately for us all, after a wailing to my husband, and re-reading back a ways, I managed to work it out! Cheers, all._


	10. Chapter 10

_Disclaimer: As I've mentioned once or twice before, I do not (sadly) own these characters._

-o0o-

_Chapter 10_

-o0o-

Hermione was hiding upstairs. Molly was kindness personified, but she was going a bit crazy regarding the wedding plans. Hermione had helped her with some of the baking this afternoon, and had organized lists for her, based on what Molly said remained to be done, but if she was honest, she needed a bit of a break from wedding plans and discussion. She was pleased that Molly, who knew what she was doing, had taken control, but she didn't want to talk about it for hours. It was only a wedding, after all. She rather wished she could talk to someone about what happened _after_ the wedding.

Ginny was of little help. She and Harry got along so beautifully, with no trouble talking to each other. Well, Harry was naturally reticent about some things, but Ginny seemed to know how to pry him out of his shell. Hermione didn't have that gift and she knew it. She tended to nag, and press and press until she got the answers she'd been seeking; at least that had been her way growing up. Perhaps she knew better now, but it still didn't tell her the secrets to a good relationship. Oh, how she wished the intricacies of marriage were covered in a book! Now that she was feeling less nervous about sex, other doubts were creeping in. She stared at her engagement ring, fiddled with it a bit. It still felt new on her hand and she caught herself staring into the depths of the stone when the twinkling caught her eye.

Hermione sat on the edge of Fred's bed, lost in thought, staring at her ring. So she jumped when there was a tapping at the window and a pale face appeared. Her heart jumped into her throat, but she breathed a sigh of relief when she realized it was just Fred, on his broomstick, hovering outside the window. She rushed to open the window and let him in.

"A broomstick, Fred? What happened to using the front door?" she asked dryly, trying cover for her startled reaction.

"And here I thought it was being romantic, a flight through the moonlight to my damsel's window, just to present her with stunning flowers of the most exotic reaches." Fred pulled a bouquet of brightly colored gerbera daisies from behind his back and Hermione smiled in spite of herself, as she took them.

"You remembered. Thank you, Fred. They are lovely." She conjured a clear glass vase and filled it with water from the tip of her wand before placing the flowers inside. "Now, really, what are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see you," he said simply. Hermione looked at him, one eyebrow raised sceptically, but she couldn't stop the warm feeling that was filling her or the grin spreading across her face.

"Here I am. Now what?" Hermione did a slow spin, arms outstretched, her voice teasing.

"Now? Now is where we hug, and I kiss you, obviously." Fred remained where he was, leaning against the wall, so Hermione crossed to him. He put his arms around her, and pulled her close to him, breathing in her scent, and feeling the restlessness and desire within him settle. She smiled up at him and he smiled back down at her, and then touched his lips softly to hers. "I was thinking that maybe I'd spend the night here."

"So . . . you sneak in through your old bedroom window, to spend the night in your parent's house. Why does that seem unnecessarily complicated?"

"Oh, did I mention it's meant to be a secret? That's the fun of it."

"That is ridiculous, Fred. Why on earth would this be a secret? Just go downstairs and announce you plan to spend the night. Easy enough."

"But far less fun than sneaking about. Come on, Hermione. Where is your sense of adventure? Do you think you just can't keep quiet when I have my wicked way with you?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous Fred. I just don't see the point of sneaking around."

"Take my word for it, Mione. It's a lot more fun." His hands crept up under her shirt, traced circles on her bare back.

"Ugh. Fine, Fred. It's a secret. I still don't see why." His eyes just twinkled with mischief. And he bent down to kiss her properly. They were still kissing, more and more urgently, when footsteps sounded on the stairs. Hermione broke off, and Fred winked at her and ducked behind the open wardrobe door, casting a disillusionment charm over himself so he wouldn't be noticed. Hermione rolled her eyes again, but cast a notice-me-not charm at the broom he'd left by the window.

The door to Ginny's room opened and Molly stuck her head through. "Oh, there you are, Hermione! Ginny and Harry decided to take a walk, and I wondered if you wanted to go over the menu for your wedding dinner. Oh, what lovely flowers! Where did these come from, dear?"

"Oh, Fred sent them. I told him I'd been thinking about gerberas for the wedding flowers, and he thought I might like these. Aren't they lovely?"

"Gerbera daisies, dear? Why not some lovely roses? Flaming roses are just beautiful you know!"

Hermione could hear Fred's low chuckle now behind her and realized that he had slowly moved away from the wardrobe, and inched closer to Hermione. "You are so right, Molly. But gerberas are so large and lovely and cheerful, don't you think? I promised Fred we'd have a bunch of color, and this is an easy way to do it. Also, for centerpieces, I was thinking that we could just put a bunch of green apples out, with a few daisies for more color. And maybe hang gold and red lanterns around the orchard for lighting?" She stifled the gasp that arose when she felt Fred's lips on her shoulder. Ooohh, she would get him back for this. She felt his hands slide under her shirt again, but knew that at the angle she was at, Molly wouldn't be able to see it.

"Oh, dear, that could be really charming. Have you given any thought to how you want your cake to look?"

"Er, no, not really. I think Fred had some ideas, we should ask him tomorrow."

"Yes, all right. Are you certain you don't want to come down and have another look through the marquee catalogue? I can make some tea or hot cocoa."

"You are so sweet, Molly. But I think I'll just revise for a bit. It's a bit harder to prepare for the NEWTs when I'm just on my own. Maybe I'll come down later."

Molly just smiled and left her alone. Hermione whirled around as soon as the door closed and smacked at what she though was Fred's arm. "Frederick Weasley! That was just plain wrong!"

He reappeared, unable to hide his grin. "Oh, come on Mione, wasn't it at least a little fun?"

"No! I would have been so embarrassed if your mother had seen that!" But she was smiling a little.

"Just think of all the fun we could have tonight if no one knows I'm here. We could take a long shower together," he murmured, nuzzling her neck. "Or we could sneak outside and enjoy some alone time in the orchard." His fingers lightly stroked her arm, and she could feel desire beginning to hum through her body. "And of course, I owe you, don't I? For letting George see you in your towel. I did promise to make it up to you. And I do try to keep my promises." His mouth moved down to lick the hollow of her throat and she could feel her heart speeding up. If she was honest, this all sounded wickedly intriguing.

"Oh, all right. You can stay. I'll keep your secret. But we are not going to snog all night, Fred." Hermione put her hands on his chest to push him away from her, but he pinned her there by wrapping his arms tightly around her.

"Does that mean we can shag all night instead?" His voice was low and rumbly and it caused Hermione's heart to flop in her chest.

"NO. Seriously, Fred, I need to breathe." Her mouth was a bit dry, and she needed space. Fred must have heard the note of pleading in her voice, because he immediately let her go and backed away, to sit against the headboard of his old bed. "Thank you," she said after taking a deep breath.

"Ok, sorry, Mione. Now. What it is you wanted do if we aren't going to snog? Play exploding snap? Make shadow puppets? Compare foot sizes?" Fred was being silly, and it made Hermione laugh.

"No, let's just talk. We haven't really had the chance since that night."

"Sure. Why don't we start with the obvious? Why are you in here, and why was Mum expecting to find you here?"

"Your mum said it was silly for me to keep sleeping in Ginny's room on a cot when there were perfectly good beds not being used, so I've been sleeping in here. No sense in moving all of my clothes though, since I'm just going to be packing those up and moving them to the flat soon."

"Er, hasn't the room been empty all along? Why now?"

Hermione laughed. "I think your mum was hoping that if Ginny and I shared a room, it would be less likely that Harry and Ginny or Ron and I would sneak about." Hermione sat with her back against the foot of the bed, knees drawn to her chest.

"Ah. Mum must not be devious enough. That's easy to get around."

"Wouldn't know, I never tried." She just shrugged.

"It's a good thing I came over then. You need to live on the edge a little. Heightens the senses, you know." He winked at her.

"I see. And just how much sneaking around have you done here, Fred?"

"Oh, plenty, in my day. Of course, there was the sneaking involved in the prank wars, which were legendary. Did I ever tell you that George and I swore to get Bill back for sticking us together back to back? It took a whole day for that charm to wear off, and Mum wouldn't reverse it, saying it served us right for trying to put itching powder in his unders. It took ages, but we managed to do it. Involved a great deal of sneaking about, that did. We timed it just right and managed to get him stuck in return."

"What was he stuck to then?"

"Ah, that was the genius bit. He got stuck to his girlfriend's bra. He had her up in the old treehouse, and they started getting frisky, and he was feeling her up and got stuck that way. And he couldn't tell Mum or Dad, because he'd have been in so much trouble. And she was furious. Ended up having to leave her bra behind, and he was stuck to it until dinner time. Watching him try to hide the bra in his pocket was pretty funny." Fred chuckled just thinking about it, and Hermione smiled at his story.

"Ok, that's pretty good, I admit it. Did you ever sneak a girl in here?"

"No, I never did, but I did help George sneak Angie in a couple of times. I was more interested in sneaking out, myself."

"And did you manage it?"

"A couple of times, but it's bloody hard with Mum's clock and all. If she got the least bit suspicious, she'd check that first. Our hands frequently said 'Up to No Good' but they always said that while pointing at the Burrow. She'd wallop us if she found out we were gone off the property, so I didn't try it often. Trust me, you've seen her yell. You never wanted to be on the other end of her wooden spoon when she was angry with you."

"No! Your mum didn't really spank you, did she?" Hermione seemed very surprised.

"Course she did. We were a pretty rowdy bunch. When we were very little, she made us stand in corners, but I guess George and I ruined that, cause we'd just spend the time planning." Fred laughed. "Although, all things considered, Mum wasn't the worst, Dad was. Probably because you could see how much it hurt him. And also because he'd march you out to the willow tree down by the pond to pick your own switch." Fred grimaced in memory. "You look surprised. Didn't you ever get smacked growing up?"

"Oh, goodness no. My parents were progressive. They didn't believe in corporal punishment. If I was in trouble, they'd take away privileges. Of course, I was a pretty good child. I was always terribly afraid of disappointing them."

"I guess our childhoods were pretty different, weren't they? Never really thought that much about it before."

"Yes, I suppose so. Did you get spanked very often, then?"

"Nah, not all things considered anyway. I'm not sure I could even remember the last time Mum spanked me. Probably around the summer before Hogwarts. We'd settled down a bit. And the last time Dad switched us was when we were seven and he caught us trying to make Ron take an Unbreakable Vow to give us all his Christmas candy. We'd nicked Mum's wand. He was absolutely right to do it though. Before that, I don't think I'd realized how scary and dangerous magic could be. We'd always grown up with it, you know?" Fred looked troubled.

"I can't imagine how frightening that must have been for your dad. I think not growing up around magic probably gave me a greater appreciation for the varieties and potential dangers of it."

"I wonder how it was for you to suddenly find out about magic. How strange that must have been."

"Oh, it was. But it also wasn't. I mean, strange things had been happening around me for years. I never fit in anywhere, didn't have many friends. So in some ways, it was quite a relief, you know. There was an explanation for why I was so different. It all made sense. Minerva McGonagall was the one who brought the letter to us. You know about that, right? When it's a muggleborn, the staff bring the letter out to explain all about it. We didn't believe her until she turned the teapot into a bird. Mum never could bring herself to use that teapot again." Fred laughed, but then looked at her consideringly.

"Do you miss your parents, Mione?" he asked quietly.

"Everyday. Sometimes I still think about going to Australia and trying to reverse the charms. But Kingsley was right. I wanted them to be safe, so I modified their memories without really thinking through what would happen if we won and I survived. They can't return to their lives here, because their lives here don't exist anymore. They are happy enough, and I have to live with that." Hermione wiped away the tears that gathered in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought them up." Fred was frowning.

"No, no. I'd rather you did. Nobody really talks about them. Probably so I'm not upset, but I do miss them." She stopped and played with the hem of her shirt for awhile, and Fred watched the emotions flitting over her face. "Fred, can I ask you something?"

"Open book, Hermione, you know that." His voice was matter of fact.

"During the battle, when the wall hit you . . . what happened? Do you remember anything?" Her voice was soft and gentle, but Fred became very tense. He had hoped to avoid this conversation for a very long time.

"I'm not sure I want to talk about it," he said flatly.

Hermione looked surprised. "Oh. Well. You don't have to, Fred. I'm sorry that I asked."

Fred sighed and swung his legs around, so that he was resting his feet on the floor and could only see Hermione out of the side of his eyes. He drug a hand over his face, then rubbed his neck. "No. No, I'll tell you a little. I don't like thinking about it. I'm sure you have some idea. I was practically dead. I remember teasing Percy for making a joke, and then a crashing sound and then nothingness. Not like when you are sleeping or have been hit in the head with a bludger, mind. It was consciousness, but there was nothing there. And the scariest part of all was that I couldn't feel George anymore. I've always felt him. He's always been a part of me, but then he wasn't there anymore. It was the worst thing I've ever felt." He shuddered. He hadn't ever spoken these words aloud to anyone, even George. Of course, he didn't have to tell him; George had known it too.

There was a moment of silence, and Fred spoke again in a low voice. "I didn't know where I was or if I was alive or dead. There was simply nothing around me, nothing there. The sheer lack of information was bloody terrifying. And knowing I had to be dead, because George was gone, not knowing . . ." His voice trailed off.

"Oh, Fred. How awful. I'm so sorry. You must have been so frightened." He only nodded and blinked away tears. "Oh, Fred. I shouldn't have asked." She sounded so apologetic. She reached out and laid a comforting hand on his thigh.

"How did we get on this depressing stuff anyway? We're supposed to be having fun and sneaking about. C'mon, Hermione. Let's go for a fly." Fred visibly forced away the quiet brooding that threatened to overtake him and assumed a mantle of cheerfulness that rang just a little hollow. But as he was trying, Hermione had no wish to dwell on this either. Flying, though. . .

"Er, Fred. I, um, I don't care much for flying."

"Mione, you've ridden on thestrals and a bloody dragon. A broomstick with me can't be too bad, now can it? Come on. I promise to stay low to the ground and go slowly. Well, once we get out towards the meadow, that is. Give it shot. You can sit in front of me, and I'll make sure to hold you tightly." Fred's voice was cajoling, and Hermione sighed. She knew already that she was going to give in. What about Fred made her willing to do things she logically thought were insane?

"Fine. Let me get a jumper. It's got to be chilly out there." Fred grinned and summoned his broom, while Hermione found a dark jumper to pull on. She did as she'd done the other night, and pulled her hair into a bun which she secured with her wand, a terrible habit she'd picked up from Luna. Fred mounted the hovering broomstick, and scooted back to allow room for Hermione to get on ahead of him. Once she had, she grasped the shaft in a deathgrip, and Fred moved back up until he was directly behind her, and wrapped his arm securely around her.

"Ok, Hermione, reach up and open the window, and away we go." Hermione squeezed her eyes tightly closed as Fred guided them slowly through the window and around the house, moving slowly towards the meadow. This was hardly sneaking as anyone glancing out the window could have seen them, but Hermione was surprised to find that she did find this a bit thrilling, and she felt safe enough with Fred. Unlike Ron, he didn't get frustrated with her fear and unlike Harry, he didn't assume she would enjoy a wild ride. He did exactly as promised, stayed much lower than he normally would and went slowly, and Hermione opened her eyes. She found herself beginning to relax against him, trusting that he would hold her. He guided them to the meadow and flew gently and slowly around the perimeter a couple of times, before setting down at the far edge of the meadow.

"That was wonderful, Fred. Thank you for not trying to scare me."

"Don't tell me you enjoyed that, Hermione! Your reputation will be ruined forever." He was feeling more at ease again, teasing her. He settled himself on the ground, and she joined him, snuggling into his one-armed embrace, feeling warm and secure. "I love to fly. I think Harry may be the only person I know who loves it more. Maybe Ginny too. The others like it of course, but I always felt so free flying. It could be one time you could be alone a bit, it could be a little dangerous, and fun."

"It's always scared me. Probably because my first lesson was a disaster." She shrugged a bit.

"You never really did build any confidence then, did you? And you've had some pretty wild rides."

"I suppose that is one way to put it." They sat for awhile in silence, with the exception of Fred casting a warming charm around them. "Fred? Are you scared at all?"

"Of what? I'm afraid you'll have to be specific, Mione." There was gentleness and encouragement in his tone that she was hearing more and more from him.

"Of getting married. Of this, whatever, that is happening is between us. I am scared, Fred. I have no idea how to make a relationship work. None of mine ever have." The admission was soft, but he heard it all the same.

"Scared? Bloody hell, yes. Terrified, honestly. I don't have a lot of experience either you know. And I love you, Mione. What if I bollix it all up? I haven't got the first clue how to be a husband." Fred didn't look at her as he admitted this.

"You love me, Fred? How can that be? We've been together for less than a month. Is it possible that we love each other?"

"Do you love me then?" He turned his face towards her, and she looked up at him in the pale light.

"Yes. I do." Her voice was firm.

"Then why question it? Clearly, it is possible, Hermione. Who knows how or why? Can we just accept it?" Hermione smiled a bit.

"I don't know. I like to know things, how and why things work. I think that is part of what scares me about marriage. I don't know anything about it, firsthand anyway."

"And it's not something we can learn from a book. I want you to know that I will try, Mione. I may not be very good at it, but I will try."

"Me too, Fred, me too." There was another moment of quiet, where they were in harmony. "Fred. Can you say it again?" Her voice was timid.

"I love you." He emphasized his words by kissing the tip of her nose. Hermione smiled at Fred and twisted so she could wrap her arms around him.

"You know, Fred, one of the things that I most like about you is that you have kept your promises to me. You are gentle with me and kind. All the things I had wanted Ron to be, the way I wanted to be treated, that's how you are with me. I never would have expected it of you."

"And I never would have thought you would ever let someone take care of you. I guess we let our shields down, then, didn't we?" He cocked his head to get a better look at her. "Who would ever have expected us, eh?"

"An excellent question. Very few people, I expect. Including us." Fred chuckled. "So, may I ask something?"

"You know the answer to that, Hermione," he replied, amusement in his voice.

"This will sound terribly naïve, but what will sex be like? The other night and that morning, it was very different than what I expected. I'm just wondering, I guess."

"Cannot believe I am saying this, but Ginny might be able to answer that better. Ugh, that image may well sully my mind all night now, Hermione. Hope you are happy." He pulled a face, and she giggled.

"No, really, Fred. I want to know more about what to expect when we actually have sex."

"You know, if you are that interested, Mione, I'm happy to show you." He was serious, she could tell by the tone of his voice.

"Er, no. I think I want to wait until we are actually married. If that's fine with you." She squirmed a little, not looking at him.

"Of course it is. I've always said that we could go as slowly as you wanted, and I meant it. Sex? Well, at first, it'll probably be a little awkward, and it can be sweaty and sticky, and it may hurt some the first couple of times." Hermione gulped loudly enough that he heard her, and he chuckled that low throaty laugh that was a clear sign of his amusement at her expense. "It's not as bad as it sounds, love. If it were people wouldn't do it so much. That's really just at first. And I will do my best to make sure you are comfortable and as ready as possible and that you enjoy yourself. You enjoyed yourself the last time, didn't you?"

"Yes. I was rather surprised by that. I'd never come close to experiencing anything like that before."

Fred nuzzled just below her ear and lightly nipped at her earlobe. "Then I can promise you that you will enjoy shagging, Mione. You need to stop worrying so much about it. In fact, let me remind you of just how little you need to worry. Let's go back to the house. It's awfully early to go to bed, but maybe you can sneak me into the shower after all. Think you're up to the challenge?" He pulled her very close to him and she shivered a little bit.

"As ridiculous as I think your little game is, I'll give it a go." She stood up and Fred did the same. Hermione grasped his hand, gave him a mischievous grin that would have been more at home on his twin brother's face, and with a turn, she apparated them directly into the loo. She quickly turned on the taps and took off her clothes and summoned a towel. Soon as she had wrapped it around her, there was a knock and Molly was calling through the door. She cast a disillusionment charm at Fred, motioning for him to stay quiet, and then opened the door.

"There you are, Hermione. Thought I heard the shower going. I just wanted to let you know that I'm going on up to bed. Arthur is in his shed, and Harry and Ginny are in the kitchen having cocoa. Sleep well, dear." Hermione smiled and nodded and shut the bathroom door, and cast a couple of complex locking wards on them before canceling the disillusionment on Fred. He grinned at her, and began to strip down for the shower. When he was as naked as Hermione was beneath her towel, he pulled her close to him, and slowly unwrapped the towel covering her, causing her to shiver again.

He folded it with a flick and set it down on the closed lid of the toilet and then sat down on it, and then tugged Hermione over to him. "Come on, love. I'm not going to bite. Sit down." Hermione bit her lip, feeling a flutter of nerves, but complied, straddling Fred's lap, settling herself on him, trying to ignore the fact that they were both naked and that their private parts were rather firmly pressed together. "Oi, stop over-thinking it Hermione. Just relax."

Fred pulled her a little closer, so that she was pressed against his chest, and his hands trailed lightly up and down her back. "Have I told you how incredibly attractive you are? I could just stare at you for hours." His voice was low and rough and quiet, his blue eyes were darkening with lust as they trailed over her body and face.

"Fred?"

"Yes, love?"

"Stop talking," she whispered. He smirked and then they kissed lightly before Hermione ran her tongue over Fred's lips, and then the kiss was deepened. Fred ran one large hand up Hermione's back and the other rested on her thigh. They kissed hungrily, as they hadn't kissed in several days; tongues stroking and kneading, bodies pressed together. Hermione squirmed and Fred groaned a little, but she found that rolling her hips and grinding against Fred kept pressure increasing, and it clearly had the right effect on Fred as well. His hand found her breast and she moaned and increased her pace until she stiffened and then shuddered with her orgasm. She could feel Fred still erect beneath her, and looked at him shyly.

"Sorry," she whispered.

"For what?" he asked, his eyes twinkling.

"Well, I, um. But you haven't." She looked embarrassed. Fred kissed the tip of her nose, then her lips.

"First, never, ever apologize for getting off. That's the goal. Second, that won't be the only time tonight, love. Third, let's get in the shower and you can help me out with this." Hermione blushed, but stood up. Fred stepped into the shower and helped Hermione in. They were in close quarters, with trying to keep the hot water pouring over both of them. Hermione was too short to kiss Fred, so she let him lean back against the wall of the shower and kissed his chest, which caused him to groan. She looked at him questioningly and tentatively licked at his chest, then his nipples, which made him throw his head back.

"You are killing me, Mione." He smiled down at her, and she moved closer to continue her ministrations as she tentatively took his erection in her hands. She slowly began stroking the length, watching his reactions to her movements, learning how to change her touch to elicit responses from him. She realized that she was teasing him, and enjoyed that she could cause such reactions in him.

Fred was enjoying every exquisitely torturous second, but he was going to lose control soon. The excitement in her eyes, at realizing that she could make him feel this way, it was too much. Gods, this witch was incredible. She increased her pace, and it sent him over the edge, and he thrust into her hands and released. He took a shuddering breath and wrapped his arms around her and leaned down to kiss her.

They kissed under the spray of the water for a few moments, and then Hermione pulled away and started to reach around Fred for the soap, but she reached too far and lost her balance, and the slick tub was not conducive to regaining it. Fred grabbed for her, but wasn't able to stop her fall, and she shrieked as she fell out of the tub and hit the floor with a thunk.

"Oh shit. Hermione, are you ok?" Fred's voice was frantic.

"Ouch. Oh, yes. Bugger. I'm all right, just sore." Even as she spoke, she could hear footsteps thundering on the stairs from all directions. "Oh no. Fred!" Hermione hissed, her eyes wide with panic. Despite the situation, Fred couldn't help the grin the crossed his face.

"Shhhh! Hand me my wand. I'll hide myself. You turn off the water – you'll have to let them in." She grabbed his wand and thrust it at him as the pounding started.

"Hermione! Are you okay? What happened?" came concerned voices from the other side of the door.

Fred disappeared before her eyes, and she quickly turned off the water and grabbed her wand. Fred's clothes were hastily covered by her own and she wrapped herself in a towel and released the wards on the door.

"I'm fine. I'm fine. I just fell." Ginny, Harry, Ron and Molly all peered at her in disbelief. But, she was soaked, there was water all over the floor and Fred was invisible behind the shower curtain.

"How on earth did you fall?" Ginny was staring at her in astonishment and Harry's eyebrows were raised.

"I slipped. It's stupid, but I was trying to reach my wand to use the shaving charm and I slipped, all right?" She was red in the face. Ron just grunted and turned around and walked back upstairs. Ginny was looking at the shower with intensity, and there was a glimmer in her eyes.

"Are you sure you are all right dear? That sounded like quite a nasty fall." Molly looked concerned.

"Well, I hit the edge of the tub, and I'll probably have a nasty bruise, but really, I'm more embarrassed than anything."

"Where did you land? Do you want me to heal it?" Molly had her wand out, looking as if she were about to run a diagnostic. Ginny was now grinning in a predatory fashion, and elbowing Harry.

"No! Really, I'll take care of it. Honestly, I'm dripping wet and cold, and just want to get dressed. I'm sorry I disturbed you all."

"If you are sure, Hermione." Molly gave her a searching glance and Hermione looked suitably discomfitted. "I'll just go back up to bed. Good night, children. Don't stay up too late."

"Yes, Molly." Harry and Hermione chorused while Ginny wished her mum a good night. Hermione was left with Harry and Ginny.

"Um, if you don't mind, I just need to get dressed." Ginny crossed her arms and smirked.

"Hermione, don't you usually bring your clothes with you?"

"Yes, they are right there. Ginny, please, I'm freezing." Harry was looking back and forth between the witches, a confused frown creasing his forehead.

"Mmmm. Those aren't your pyjamas, they're the clothes you were wearing earlier. And I didn't realize you'd taken to wearing boxers, Hermione. Interesting choice, those." Ginny was clearly terribly pleased with herself.

"Well spotted, Gin-gin, now get the hell out, it's bloody cold in here," came Fred's amused voice from the shower. A slow grin lit Harry's face, while Hermione just buried her face in her hands.

"All right, all right, I'm going. Don't do anything I wouldn't do, Hermione."

"OI! You'd better not be doing anything, Ginny!" came the amused disembodied voice. Ginny stuck her tongue out at the shower and dragged a laughing Harry away behind her.

The door was finally, blissfully shut and Fred reappeared, struggling not to laugh. Hermione cast a drying charm over herself and then him, followed by warming charms. He pulled Hermione into a loose embrace, grinning down at her as she struggled not to smile back. "Are you certain you aren't hurt, love?"

"Yes. Only, please, please tell me you know how to heal bruises. I'm really sore. Not to mention completely mortified."

Fred turned serious. "Where does it hurt?" He pulled the towel off of her and hung it up on the rack, and turned her around. She pointed to a spot on her hip and thigh, and he could see the red swelling already beginning to purple. He knelt on the floor and gently pressed his lips to the spot, and she sucked her breath through her teeth in a hiss. He gently rubbed the spot, a frown on his face, and Hermione felt the pain and swelling begin to subside. "Where else, love?" She indicated a spot on the back of her other leg, and he repeated his gentle rubbing until she gave a little sigh of relief and he stood back up.

"Did you just do that wandlessly? How did you do that?" Hermione demanded. Fred laid a finger over her lips.

"Let's get up to the bedroom without getting caught and I'll tell you. You want to banish those clothes?"

"If I banish them, what will we wear?" Fred ran his fingers lightly over her collarbone before replying.

"Mione, believe me when I say you won't need clothes for awhile." He cocked an eyebrow at her and she shivered in anticipation.

"And exactly how are we supposed to get upstairs, Frederick? What is your grand plan for this?"

"Easy enough. Move quietly, slowly and invisibly. You'll have good cause to make sure that you don't give away your location." Before she could argue, Fred banished the clothes and then cast a charm to make her invisible, then did the same for himself. The door opened, and she heard a low chuckle.

Hermione could not believe she was doing this. It was ridiculous. Insane. She was completely starkers, trying to move silently around one of the creakiest homes she'd ever been in so she wouldn't be discovered with her fiancé, who used to live here and could have just announced his presence. Sheer lunacy.

She froze as the stair beneath her creaked. When no one came to investigate, she continued on. It was an enormous relief when she reached the room safely and without incident. Once she made it inside, the door shut behind her and she heard Fred quietly ward it, noticing that he had cast muffling charms over the entire room. She began expanding the bed, as it had been when they had last slept together. Fred was sitting on the bed when the charms finally wore off. She clambered up beside him, and looked at him expectantly.

"Wandless healing? Really?" Fred laughed at her persistent enthusiasm.

"Really. I can't do it with many things. Most things even. But wandless magic and wordless magic aren't really that different. It's about concentration, yeah? I'm decent with healing charms; have to be when you test your own products. So I started fooling around with it during one of Umbridge's dreadful classes. I had a cut on my finger and started trying to heal it. And then I did. I've worked on it some ever since."

"But how? Many wizards have trouble with silent incantations. Wandless magic is supposed to be terribly difficult." Hermione was frowning.

"It is difficult, but probably not for the reasons you think. After all, most children do it, you know. It's just that in order to control magic, we're taught to focus it with the use of wands with magical cores as a guide. Applying the same concentration and focus without a magical core helping direct the magic is pretty difficult, just as silent casting is. If you can't control it, you get explosions of magic like magical children display. If you don't focus, it fizzles out without doing much."

"Do you have any idea of how amazing that is?" Hermione demanded.

"Honestly, Hermione, anyone can do it with enough practice. It's just like many other forms of magic."

"But . . ." Hermione looked as if she were either going to argue or pepper him with questions.

"Mione. We can talk about it tomorrow. I will explain everything I know. But wandless magic is not why I am here right now." He looked at her meaningfully, and she sighed dramatically, and flopped on the bed, then smiled. "Better. Come lay down here so I can kiss you properly."

Hermione obliged, and that touched off a long evening of increasing intimacy, in which Fred held true to his promise to remind her how little she needed to worry herself over sex. Once Hermione had been reassured, several times, they again fell asleep with Fred curled around Hermione.

-o0o-

_A/N: Well, to be perfectly honest, Chapter 20 is giving me terrible fits. And while I have reason to think the upcoming break will give me a bit more time to work on it, it will likewise probably not give me time to post. So, a very Merry Christmas a few days early from me and hope you enjoy. If we're all lucky, I'll be able to update again before the New Year, but I make no promises. And now for some business - look away if you find authors promoting pieces distasteful! First, I added a little one-shot about Fred & George's sorting if that is of interest to you; you can find a link in my profile page, and you'll always be updated if you add me to author alert. Second, there is a piece out there that is absolutely fantastic but not getting a lot of notice._ "The Order of the Badger" by LingeringLuminosity_ can be found on here - her writing is really solid and the backstory is really interesting. If you like good writing, check it out and leave her a review. All reviews encourage authors, and thoughtful reviews help them shape their stories. I admit I've not always been good about reviews myself, but I understand the importance of them now that I publish my scribblings. It's easy to get discouraged when you can see people reading your story and yet you get no comments on it - there is no way to tell whether people are enjoying it or whether they're closing the browser in disgust after three paragraphs. Even brief reviews help boost your confidence, so be kind when you appreciate someone's work and let them know. And if you don't appreciate it and are feeling generous (I have a hard time with this!) take a few moments to let them know nicely what isn't working for you. That's the only way we as authors can improve! Hope everyone enjoys a safe holiday season. Cheers!_


	11. Chapter 11

_Disclaimer - I did not possess the winning lottery ticket for that gloriously large jackpot drawing this week, more's the pity for us all (think of the fanfiction with which you would be deluged when I had no other claims on my time beyond this, cafe mochas, and having others build my dream home for me!). Likewise, these lovely characters, story backgrounds, universe, etc. do not belong to me (again, more's the pity)._

-o0o-

Chapter 11

-o0o-

Fred woke after only a few hours sleep to discover it was still dark and quiet around the Burrow. Not feeling inclined to move, he contented himself with curling around Hermione and holding her close to him. He was surprised by how much he enjoyed sharing a bed with her. Granted, he enjoyed it a bit more when her hair was plaited, he mused as he brushed the cloud of hair tickling his chin away from him. Fred thought maybe it was just getting to see her in such a relaxed and vulnerable position. In front of others, in a classroom, before a cauldron, she was at an ease borne of confidence, but rigid and purposeful. Now, she was soft and open, and he knew how to unlock that side of her.

Oh, yes, he was definitely arse over teakettle in love with her. Her left hand was resting on his chest and he took a moment to study the ring he'd chosen for her. She was fine boned, and her hands reflected that. They were delicate and soft. He wanted something fine and delicate for her, that would look well on those talented fingers, but something crisp and tailored too. The green-blue stone gleamed and the halo of diamonds around it glimmered and he was pleased with his choice. More pleased that she had accepted it. Looking at it now reminded him that they needed to go buy their wedding bands soon. This week might be difficult, with Ginny and Harry's wedding being only six days away, but they would go soon. He had an idea what he wanted to get her, but was intrigued by what she would select for him.

He lightly grazed her fingers with his, and let his hand rest on top of hers. If he was still, Fred could feel her heart beating. How odd that that reminded him of his experience after the wall collapsed on him. Fred chose not to think about it often, but now he could remember a curious thing that Fabian had said to him; something about things changing. Well, that was turning out true enough. Finding himself in bed with Granger and content with the situation was rather a large change. Not one he would trade though, he thought with a yawn before drifting back to sleep, his cheek resting on the mess of Hermione's curls beneath him.

-o0o-

Hermione woke with a start. She'd been dreaming about something that had felt important, but it was a jumbled and confusing puzzle of images of Death Eaters and warnings and there had been a sound that had startled her. She sat up and realized that Fred wasn't in bed with her. The door was closed and she was a little concerned about where he could have gone.

Pulling her wand from beneath the pillow, Hermione summoned her clothes from the previous evening and quickly dressed. She stepped out of the room and could hear the faint sounds of breakfast being cooked downstairs. The door to the loo was closed, but it wasn't clear whether someone was inside or not, so Hermione walked quietly down and knocked.

The door opened and Fred was standing there, toothbrush in hand. He motioned her in and shut the door behind her. She leaned against it and watched as he finished brushing his teeth and conjured a comb to run quickly through his hair. "Sorry, did I wake you up?"

She shrugged before answering. "Something did. Might've been you. Doesn't matter." She yawned a bit, and Fred grinned at her and leaned down as if he were going to kiss her, but she held up a hand to stop him. "Oh no. I was raised by dentists. I cannot do anything until I've brushed my teeth. I just feel grotty."

Fred stepped back and half-bowed towards the sink. Hermione took his place in front of it and thoroughly brushed her teeth, while Fred looked on. "Merlin's hat, Hermione, are you polishing them? What takes you so long?" She only glared at him until she was done and her mouth thoroughly rinsed.

"Dentists, remember, Fred? Muggle teeth doctors? Oral care is very important, you know." Her voice was in prissy lecture mode.

"Oh, I agree entirely, Hermione. Oral care is very, very important. And I'm hoping you will allow me to care for you orally next time I spend the night." Fred leered at her, and Hermione snorted while rolling her eyes.

"Honestly, Fred. It's too early in the morning for bad puns. Why are we up anyhow?" Hermione covered her mouth as she yawned again.

"Ah. Well, I figured I'd wake you and tell Mum I surprised you this morning and came early to help with the clean-up. And for breakfast, of course."

"Naturally. I suppose I need to go change," she said ruefully, looking down at her rumpled clothing.

"Mmmm, yes. _Teensy_ problem, that. Ginny's door is spelled shut. You won't be able to get in." The corners of Fred's lips twitched, as if he were fighting to contain a grin.

Hermione looked blankly at Fred. "Why on Earth would Ginny spell her door shut?"

"Ah. She didn't." Fred was wearing a look she'd seen before; one that usually spelled trouble for someone.

"She didn't," Hermione repeated back to him, cocking her head to the side and tried to follow the logic. She glared at him when realization dawned. "Frederick, why did you spell her door shut?"

"Prank, of course. She's getting married in six days. George and I have declared a prank war."

"Fred, that isn't nice at all. She's going to be nervous enough and now she'll worry that you are going to do something awful at the wedding." Hermione looked cross.

"We aren't doing anything at all. Hence, the prank war. Not pranking her wedding is not only our gift, it's a prank in itself." Fred winked, and Hermione just sighed.

"So long as I don't get dragged in, Fred. If someone pranks me to get back at you, then you will live quite a miserable life for some time. Just remember that, darling." Hermione reached up and patted Fred's cheek. "So, if I can't get in, what do I do about my clothes?" She bit her lip and looked down.

"Don't tell me you are rubbish at transfiguration, Mione, I won't believe you."

"I suppose not," she muttered, and looking in the mirror, changed her shirt into a white tank top, and jumper from a kelly green pullover to a slate blue wrapped sweater. A tap of her wand transformed her lounge pants into denims and she gave a satisfied nod. While Fred sat on the edge of the tub watching, Hermione brushed her hair and pulled it back into a smooth ponytail, and then turned that into a sleek chignon with a wave of her wand.

"Watching you do magic is like poetry. You are so fluid and graceful with it, Mione. I'd never guess you weren't wearing new clothes. Beautiful." Fred was sincere in his praise and Hermione beamed.

"So, we're going downstairs together, and that won't look at all suspicious?" Hermione asked.

"Well, first you're going to go and transfigure the bed back to the original size and probably make it too, knowing you. I will head down while you do that, to disarm Mum with a hug and ask to be fed. And then, my sweet, we get to spend the entire day together trying to slip away to snog."

"Hmmm, that is an interesting plan. If you are well-behaved enough, it just might come to fruition." She gave him a look that made him smile softly at her.

"D'you know, Mione, how very much I am looking forward to marrying you? I'm scared silly, mind, but I am really looking forward to you being around all the time. No sneaking about, no interruptions. Just us."

"And George, Angie, and Verity during shop hours," Hermione added.

"Yes. But we can lock ourselves in the flat and ignore them all." Fred tugged her hand until she was standing close enough for him to wrap his arms around her waist.

"Maybe for a bit, but I think you'd get bored fairly quickly, Fred. Come on, I'm up now, I'm getting hungry and I want some tea. You go downstairs, I'll meet you down there soon, all right?"

"Yes, all right. Do you mind if I spend the night again tonight? Only I sort of promised George I would clear out."

"I don't mind, but no sneaking around. You will tell your mum today that you are staying, yeah? And you should also get your broom. I think we left it in the meadow last night." Hermione leaned down and kissed Fred's cheek and affectionately ruffled his freshly combed hair, and left the bathroom before he could retort.

With no other option, he apparated out to the meadow, where they had talked the night before, and found his broom. Chastising himself for leaving it out overnight, he shrunk it and placed it in his pocket for safekeeping, then apparated to the porch outside the kitchen, and walked in with a bang.

"Good morning, Mum!" he called out cheerfully. He noted that his father and Harry were at the breakfast table already, but his siblings still living at home were not. "Good morning, Dad, Harry."

"Oh, Fred darling! Lovely to see you here so early. Sit down, I'll whip up some breakfast for you in a flash. Hermione isn't down yet." Fred sat down and summoned a mug and helped himself to tea from the middle of the table.

"She'll be down in a minute. I woke her up a few minutes ago." Harry seemed to choke on his toast, and Arthur Weasley gave him a concerned look. "All right there, Harry?" Harry nodded weakly.

"If you just saw her, why on earth are you coming in from outside?" Arthur raised an eyebrow at his son.

"I apparated out to the meadow to get a look at what needed to be done today. Hermione said it would take her a bit to get dressed and come down, so I figured there was time. Other than trimming the meadow, what were you hoping to have done today, Mum?"

Harry shook his head, marveling at Fred's ability to redirect his parents and deflect attention from what he didn't want them to see. No wonder he was so good at pranks.

Molly began outlining the chores she'd planned for the day with a few interjections from Arthur. She set down a large plate filled with bangers and mash and eggs before Fred and kissed him on the forehead, before returning to the stove. Arthur folded the paper he'd been glancing at and picked up his tea before turning his attention to Fred.

"So, how are things at the store? We haven't had a chance to catch up lately."

In between bites, Fred replied. "Going better than expected. We were running low on stock, and development was put on hold while the summer rush hit, but Hermione's been an enormous help, catching us up on stock potions and she's learning how to do some of the other products, which is fantastic. You know how talented she is, it's really going to free us up to work on other things soon."

"George and Angelina are doing well?"

"Yes, same as ever. Disgustingly in love and glowingly happy. They'll both be here today. Lee Jordan is helping us out at the shop now part time, mostly up front, but it's nice to be able to be here on a weekend without closing the shop down."

"Yes, it is nice to be able to see both of you; it's not something we get to do so often anymore. We should try and talk more while you are here today. I've missed seeing you. Hopefully I'll be able to stop by for lunch sometime soon, if you all can manage it." Arthur had taken to coming by the shop for lunch every so often during the war, to check on them and update them as he could. There was something behind his words that made Fred's ears prick up a bit. Something was up.

"Love to, Dad. I'll even cook for you, if you like." Fred winked at him.

"I'm not entirely sure I believe you can cook, Fred. I've never seen any evidence of it, but I suppose someone has to cook for you two as you don't come begging for food more than once a week or so." Molly set another plate down next to Fred and returned to the stove.

"Oh he does cook, very well, Molly. He told me he learned by watching you." Hermione took her place next to Fred and before the steaming plate. "Thank you for breakfast, it smells lovely."

"Not a problem dear, my pleasure," came the response from the stove. Conversation lulled a bit as Fred and Hermione ate and Molly urged more food on Harry, who accepted after a brief protest. Fred had just finished up when they heard a ruckus from upstairs, followed by a crack of apparition and a sleep-tussled Ginny slammed through the kitchen door.

"Would anyone care to explain just why my door wouldn't open this morning? And would anyone care to fix it?" Ginny was glaring at Fred, who was looking at her with a benign smile.

"What d'you mean your door won't open?" Harry asked. "Worked fine for me." Hermione tried not choke as she snorted and swallowed her tea at the same time. Harry, realizing what he had implied, glared at her and Arthur met Molly's eyes and tried not to smile.

"I mean, Harry, that my door was spelled shut. I had to apparate down here to get out of my room. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you Fred?"

"Did you ask it nicely to open?" he asked, a twinkle in his eye. "Maybe doors have feelings too, and yours is tired of being treated so poorly." Hermione tried to smother a laugh while she shook her head.

"Fred, be nice to your sister, please. She is getting married this week. Don't aggravate her," Molly admonished from her stove, where she prepared Ginny's plate. "Do sit down and eat, dear. We've got a big day ahead of us." Ginny sat down, glaring at Fred while Molly set a plate in front of her.

"You all will be on your best behavior today, yes? Ron is bringing Daphne round for the first time and we mustn't overwhelm her."

"We'll all be angels, Mum, never fear. George and Angie will be here later on. And I thought I'd stay the night here as well. Haven't gotten to spend nearly enough time with Hermione lately and we need to work out the ceremony for Percy." Fred wrapped an arm around Hermione's shoulders and smiled at her.

"Of course dear, you're always welcome, you know that. Hermione, when you are done, would you mind just doing a quick dusting charm and maybe make certain the loo is clean? It would be a big help, as I've got to start the roast soon."

"Certainly, Molly. It's my pleasure." Hermione finished her food and levitated her plate to the sink, and gave Fred's shoulder a squeeze as she passed him on her way into the lounge.

Arthur levitated his plate as well and motioned to Fred. "Well, since we're done, perhaps you can help me clear up round the shed. What d'you say?"

"Course, Dad." Fred carried his dishes over by hand and they walked out to the shed together. "Now will you tell me what is going on?" He was unusually serious, given his Dad's secretive behavior.

"I asked Bill to run more diagnostics here, and we found a similar monitoring spell. We've eliminated it, but we're concerned about the wedding. Bill is upgrading the wards and security here, and I want to be certain you are doing the same."

"Yeah, Bill has warded the workroom and the flat and George is studying up on the Fidelius, just in case."

"Good. There are new threats against Muggleborns, so I'm a bit concerned about Hermione."

"A new threat? What the hell? Haven't we just been through a war that damaged them enough already?" Fred had a look of disgust on her face.

"Yes, but there are some crazy people out there, son. We'll talk more about this all at the Order meeting tomorrow, but I'm telling you now so you can make sure Hermione is safe. She's a capable witch, but an extra set of eyes never really hurt."

Fred nodded his agreement. Arthur gave him an appraising look. "Do you know, Fred, your mum and I have been quite concerned about you? You'd been fairly withdrawn since the Battle. George would reassure us you were doing well, but I've known the pair of you long enough to know when you are hiding something."

Fred stiffened. "It's not something I'm hiding, Dad. It's just something I don't much like to talk about." His voice was tense.

"I understand that, son. And I hope you know I would never force a confidence from you. I'm simply letting you know that both your mum and I are here, should you ever need to talk about it. We love you very much, Fred. When we thought we'd lost you. . ." Arthur's voice choked up, and despite his unwillingness to discuss the current subject matter, Fred put an arm around his dad.

"I know Dad. I'm sorry." Arthur hugged his son closely to him, but released him before things could get awkward.

"You know, we've also been worried some about you and Hermione, whether things were moving too quickly, what with the speedy marriage and all. And of course, given how affected Ron has been. But I have to admit that you seem quite content together. I take it things are going well, then? This isn't something you are rushing into, is it?"

Fred crossed his arms and leaned against the shed, trying to find the right words. "No, Dad, I don't think so. In some ways, maybe it is. But since the Ministry isn't exactly giving us a choice, I like to think we're making the best of it. And the fact is, we are a good match. I know it sounds odd, because we seem so different, but we're not really. I like being around her, it's soothing, almost."

"It was quite a lovely ring you gave her, Fred." Arthur's voice was mild, observant rather than inquiring.

"Dad, I love her. I know it sounds ridiculous, but she's amazing. And I think she loves me too." Fred looked down, a frown on his face.

"That is a good thing, son. Why do you look so concerned?"

"Well, I haven't any idea of how to be a good husband, do I? I'm rather pants at relationships, which is why none have lasted. We've talked about this, about how worried we both are, and when I'm with her, I feel confident enough, but when I think about it, I realize I've no idea what I'm doing. George said no one ever does, but that doesn't make me feel better."

"I think you don't give yourself enough credit, Fred. Watching you with Hermione, I think you are well on your way already. You are kind and caring and respectful of her. That is the basis of all good relationships, son."

"But what comes after the basis? That's the part I worry about," Fred observed wryly.

"Ah, that. Well, that, son, is all about support, compromise, learning to apologize, and good sex." Arthur grinned in a way that was reminiscent of his son, and Fred laughed in surprise.

"Righto, that is more than enough advice, thanks, Dad. I'll just start repainting the shed, shall I?" Arthur laughed, but let his son go, and began trimming the lawn around the shed to even lengths.

-o0o-

Hermione finished her cleaning and went down to see if Molly needed help with lunch. Molly set her to chopping vegetables for her, while Molly kneaded the dough for the rolls. Hermione sat at the table, the vegetables and chopping block before her.

"How is your leg today, dear? Not bruised too badly?"

"Oh, no. I was able to get it healed up. No problems."

"Glad to hear it. Next time though, you might just have Fred do it for you."

"I beg your pardon?" Hermione choked out.

"Oh, sweetheart, did you think I didn't know he was there? I knew he spent the night, dear. You don't ward your room, normally. And his hand on the clock said 'Visiting' when I came down for breakfast. It always says visiting when he's here now, because his home is the flat."

Hermione's face turned scarlet.

"Perfectly alright, Hermione. Don't be embarrassed. I'm sure Fred just wanted the thrill of sneaking about." Molly covered the dough with a towel and wiped her hands on her apron and patted Hermione on the shoulder. "Are things going well in that department, then?"

If possible, Hermione's face got more red, and she closed her eyes. Molly sat down next to Hermione and moved the block in front of her and took over chopping vegetables.

"Hermione, I don't mean to pry at all. But I do know that your mum isn't available to you, and I want you to know that if you have questions or concerns or need to talk to someone, you are welcome to come to me anytime."

"I, um, appreciate that, Molly. Really."

"So, things progressing well between you? I know things weren't so good physically with Ron."

"Gods, Molly, is there anything you don't know?" Hermione buried her face in her arms.

"Very little goes on around here that I don't know about. Raising seven children, particularly my four youngest, required me to become very good at paying attention to what was going on. It's a trick you ought to learn if you are going to live and work with the twins. Of course, being friends with Harry and Ron has probably taught you a bit about that already, I suppose."

"Just a bit," Hermione conceded, a half-smile on her face.

"You know dear, I was pleased to hear that you would still be in the family. I was sorry, but not surprised when things didn't work out with Ron. I have to say though, it doesn't surprise me that you and Fred get along so well."

"Oh?" Now that the conversation seemed to be shifting away from her sex life, Hermione was less mortified.

"Well, there are obviously some dissimilarities, but that's to be expected. You are more introverted than Fred is, but then, he's not one to put how he really feels right out there. You are both exceedingly bright and talented and hard working. You can keep him more serious than George does, and he can make you laugh. On the whole, I'm not surprised at all that you were matched. A bit surprised at how fast you are moving, but even that makes sense, really."

"Well, there is no way out of the binding you know, so it just seemed prudent to go ahead with it." Hermione shrugged, a tad defensively.

"Certainly, dear. And of course, it makes it easier for Ron as well. It's good that he's finally bringing Daphne around, but he'll have an easier time of it once you two are married and not around so much." Molly had finished chopping vegetables and now carried them to the roasting pan, setting them beneath the haunch of beef.

"I hadn't really thought of it that way, but you are probably right." Hermione rested her chin in her head, falling deep in thought.

"Of course I am. Are you sure there is nothing you want to talk about Hermione?" Molly was checking on the dough again, kneading it a second time.

"Well, there is one thing, I suppose. But it's terribly embarrassing."

"Trust me, dear, with seven children, there is no embarrassment left." Molly chuckled. "Do you mind starting the cake for dessert? It can go in the second oven, but it's got to cool if I'm going to frost it."

Hermione stood up and began gathering ingredients to mix a cake from scratch, grateful for the occupation. This was embarrassing enough as it was, but truly, she needed more information sources than simply Ginny, and with seven children, Molly would be able to give her some advice. Assuming she didn't die of mortification first. "Yes, well. Um. What is sex like? Is there anything I should know or um, do? To prepare, I mean," she said in a rush of words, focusing all her concentration on measuring out the ingredients before her.

Molly looked thoughtful. "Now that I didn't expect. I'll tell you what I told Ginny when she was younger. Sex between two people who care for each other is really quite enjoyable, especially once you've gotten over the awkwardness of being naked in front of each other. It can be awkward, mind, and the first time will probably be a little painful, even if the wizard is very gentle. But if you take it in a spirit of openness and love and retain a sense of humor about it, it's a great deal of fun."

Hermione bit her lip and cracked two eggs open over the bowl, one at a time, before saying in a small voice, "I'm afraid I won't be any good at it."

Molly laughed a bit. "Yes, I can see that would bother you. It is a learning process, dear. You have to learn what makes your wizard tick and he has to do the same. And you have to keep trying new things and not be afraid to be honest about what you enjoy and what you don't. Variety is the spice of life you know. And you'll want to try adding just a touch of cinnamon."

"Cinnamon?" Hermione questioned blankly.

"To the cake mix. It gives it a little extra flavor."

"Oh! Of course." Hermione blushed a bit and turned her attention back to the bowl in front of her, and summoned the oil and measured it out.

"You know, there is one piece of advice my mother gave me that I gave to Ginny and will give to you. Try everything once. Even if it seems odd or uncomfortable. It will help you expand your boundaries and lead you to better understand what you like and don't like. I think that is what keeps Arthur and I so young. That's more of a life lesson than a bedroom lesson, Hermione. Oh, but there is a spell I can give you that may help if you feel a bit sore. I'll just mark the chapter and leave the book in your room, shall I?"

"I'd appreciate it very much Molly. And thank you. For asking me, and for, well, everything you've done for me all this time. Giving me a place to stay, teaching me everything to do with household magics, and all that you've done for the wedding."

Molly gave her a glowing smile. "Hermione, I love to take care of my family, and you've been another daughter for many years now. Thank you is always appreciated and never necessary, dear."

Hermione smiled back in response and then set the cake batter to stirring properly. Once mixed to her satisfaction, she summoned the cake pans from the cupboard, set the oven temperature with a flick of her wand and used Fred's dividing charm from the Skiving Snackboxes to divide and pour the batter evenly between the two pans. She set them into the oven by hand, and turned to find Molly watching her with a raised eyebrow.

"Just a little trick Fred taught me." Hermione shrugged, and cleaned the mixing bowl and began gathering the ingredients to make chocolate frosting for the cake.

"So do you enjoy working in the shop, then?"

"Very much so. It's really wonderful to have something challenging to focus on and new things to learn. It's making me seriously consider going after Master status in Potions. I'll have to think more about it once I've taken my NEWTs and received the scores, of course, but I'm enjoying it very much. The things Fred and George are doing there are completely amazing and they are loads of fun to work with."

"I'm so pleased to hear it dear. I know you were going a bit stir crazy here, especially with all the Quidditch talk going on. Careful Hermione, you don't want to over mix the frosting, or it's difficult to salvage." Hermione stopped the mixing, and Molly was right. It was of perfect consistency. She covered it and set it to the side for Molly to use once the cakes were done and cooled sufficiently.

"Do you need help with anything else?" She watched as Molly worked the dough into rolls ready for the oven, then began peeling potatoes to boil for mashed potatoes.

"No, dear, you've been more then helpful today. I think I have the rest of lunch under control and Arthur, Fred and Harry know what is to be done outside. I believe Ginny is straightening the upstairs, and Ron went to meet Daphne. Your best option is to go outside and find the men. I'm certain George and Angelina will be here soon to help as well, and I'm expecting Bill and Fleur around eleven-thirty or so. I'll see you back here for lunch." Molly waved her away, and Hermione stepped out the backdoor, feeling moderately better for having talked with her, however flustered she had been.

-o0o-

_A/N - Now, darling readers, I truly did not mean to abandon you for so long, but the holidays were madness. I was eminently grateful for the break from work, but travels and family visits left me little time for writing. I'm not yet caught up to where I intended to be, but progress has been made, and so here you are. I hope to continue the previously established posting schedule (updating roughly once each weekend), but I can make no promises. I returned to work to find out my boss has resigned; I thought my work was crazy before, but we've now taken a leap directly into insanity. The net result of that as it relates to you, dear reader, is that I don't always feel like being at a computer any longer or feel up to the mental and emotional energy levels writing requires. So I apologize, but it can't be helped. Unless one of you wishes to bequeath me millions of dollars, that is. Hope the New Year has gotten off to a great start for you all, and that you enjoy this chapter. Cheers!_


	12. Chapter 12

_Disclaimer: The characters in this story were not created by me and do not belong to me. They are, however, great fun to play with. _

-o0o-

Chapter 12

-o0o-

From the porch, she could see Fred painting the shed and Harry working at de-gnoming the garden again, and Arthur was using a precision cutting charm to trim the grass. Hermione felt she ought to help Harry or Arthur, but her legs carried her over to Fred.

"Well if you aren't a sight for sore eyes," he said with a grin, pausing in his direction of three paint brushes.

"Is there a reason you don't just use a coloring charm?" Hermione asked.

"Actually yes. Using the paint allows you to protect the wood of the shed and apply a sealing charm to keep it looking fresh for some time. It looks better, in the end, and lasts longer."

"I see," Hermione said. "I suppose it makes sense. Magic provides many conveniences and shortcuts, but you can't just make everything out of thin air."

"Precisely. So, did Mum have you waxing the floors in there?" Fred asked good-humoredly.

"No, I did that last week. I expect she'll have it done again before the wedding. The one benefit to war, having your home attacked and rebuilt is that it is all newer and neater than before. I've been bored and she's been teaching me household charms, so it's stayed in very good shape really."

"Well, lucky for us our wedding is in just two and a half weeks after Harry and Ginny's; it should lessen the madness of preparation. At least the shed won't need painting again," Fred said with a grimace.

"If you'll show me the charm, I could help, you know. I know your mum and dad have quite a long list." Fred raised an eyebrow and showed her the charm, and Hermione went to work on the next side. Given that Fred had completed a side already before her arrival, it didn't take them long to finish. She watched with interest as he cast a drying charm and then a sealant charm. The shed looked good as new.

"Now you may not believe me, Hermione, but I swear I am not teasing you or making it up. Next up is cleaning out the broom shed." Fred grinned at her and Hermione laughed.

"Really, Fred, you aren't having me on? Wizard's oath?"

"Wizard's oath. That is the next thing on the list to be done." Hermione just shook her head and they headed in the direction of the broom shed. If Hermione was being honest, she could see the point; it was a bit cobwebby and the lock seemed rusted out. "So, dusting charms, wash the windows, sweep it out and find a new lock. That should do it, yeah?"

"Yes, I think so. At this rate, I'm going to have to take a shower before lunch," Hermione commented.

"Ooo, that sounds interesting. I'm up for that."

"You know your mum knew you were here last night, Fred," Hermione said dryly.

Fred looked at her with wide eyes. "No she didn't. Mum would have said."

"Oh, yes, she did know and yes she did say. It was mortifying, Fred. She asked about my bruise and said next time I should just ask you to heal it for me, and then pointed out I didn't normally ward my room."

"Well, that is a little embarrassing, innit? Sorry, Mione. But you have to admit, it was sort of fun." Fred caught her wrist and pulled her in for a hug. She returned the squeeze, and they stayed in a loose embrace, swaying a little as they smiled at each other.

"I don't mind too much. She didn't yell or anything. I think she enjoyed it, actually. And in the end, we had a really lovely chat. Your mum has been very good to me, you know."

"You're a good person, Mione. And you've been a part of our family for a very long time, love. I can attest that it is quite easy to be good to you." Fred gave a half smile as he looked down at her.

"You are very good to me too, Fred. And I think I love you for it." Hermione settled against his chest for a moment, and they hugged closely. "I have a question for you Fred, since we're alone at the moment." They broke apart and began removing the old brooms from the cupboard.

"Fire away, love."

"Well, you clearly know what you are doing in the bedroom. But I don't really. Can you tell me what you like?" Fred had been using one of the brooms to sweep out the shed, and he seemed to choke on the dust he was raising. "Honestly, Fred, _tergeo_ works a lot better for something like this, because it draws the substance out in an orderly way."

Fred coughed a couple more times, then cast _tergeo_ himself, and found she was correct. "Wasn't coughing just because of the dust. Your question took me by surprise. I'm not entirely sure how to answer it."

"I suppose it's not a question with a direct answer, is it?" Hermione cocked her head and watched Fred for a moment.

"Not really, no. I like a wide variety of things, really. I enjoy kissing you, for one. And I think you can tell that I enjoy it when you enjoy intimacy as well."

"Yes, I'd noticed, but I wasn't sure what caused it." Hermione conjured a bucket and rag and filled the bucket with water and began scrubbing the windows.

"It rather turns me on to see you respond to me. I guess in some ways, I enjoy having a bit of control there." Hermione's eyes widened and she spun around to stare at him.

"Are you some sort of sexual dominant?"

"Er, no, not exactly. I mean, I don't mind a bit of kink or the rough, on either side, but that's just play. I'm not really into that sort of thing in a meaningful way." Hermione's shoulders sagged in relief.

"I'm, um, glad to hear you say that, I guess."

Now it was Fred's turn to raise his eyebrows. "You guess? Don't tell me you've had kinky fantasies or anything like that, Hermione." The flush on her cheeks and the set of her jaw, which clearly said she was not planning to answer the question, gave her away, and Fred gave the low chuckle that made Hermione's stomach flip-flop. He leant down to her ear and she shivered when his warm breath washed over her and he said in a low voice. "You know, Hermione, I would be very, very interested in hearing some of your fantasies." He felt her shiver and he nipped lightly at her earlobe in response, before returning to the task at hand.

"Tell me what else you like. Physically, I mean."

"Well, being frank about this while we're both dressed and in the daylight is a bit clinical. Feels odd." Fred rubbed the back of his neck in his typical gesture for uncertainty or embarrassment.

"Yes, well, it feels odd for me to be half-naked or completely starkers in the candlelight and have no clue what I'm doing," Hermione retorted.

"Fair point. Right. I'll tell you one thing, but this isn't a request or an order or anything. Understand? I'm not trying to push you to anything, yeah?" He looked at her very seriously.

"Yes, and I appreciate it Fred. You have been very sweet and patient."

"Well, I really enjoy it when a woman sucks my cock. To be blunt, I mean." His ears and cheeks had turned red.

"Oh. I guess that's not surprising." Hermione vanished the conjured bucket and rag she'd used to clean the windows, and turned her attention to the lock on the shed door. She concentrated on it and managed to transfigure the old rusty lock to a shiny new padlock. Fred began moving the old brooms back inside, in an orderly line, and then they locked it all up. It looked better than when they started, at any rate. "What's next?"

"Oh, uh, orchard. That's really more for us, though. Our wedding, I mean. But clearing out some of the deadwood and leaves will make it more pleasant for Harry and Ginny's wedding as well." They held hands as they moved towards the orchard. "So why doesn't that surprise you, then?"

"Please, I've heard boys talking about that before. I had to listen to Ron and Harry discuss it when I shared a tent with them. Ron went on and on about how great it was when Lavender used to do it for him. Kept begging me to do it as well." Hermione made a face. "So we should just pile the wood or something?"

"Yeah, put it in a central location and we'll move it later. Probably use it for a bonfire one of these nights." Conversation dropped off as they separated and began piling dead, fallen branches into a growing pile. After about half an hour, maybe a third of the orchard was cleared and neat, and they were both growing tired and sweaty and Fred called a break.

"Come sit with me, Mione. I doubt we'll be able to finish this ourselves, love." Fred cleared a spot and transfigured a couple of leaves into large cushions and they sank down onto them with a large apple tree at their backs. "So, tell me about one of your kinky fantasies then."

Hermione flushed bright red. "Oh no. Not until you tell me one of yours."

"More than happy to." Fred flashed what Hermione was coming to think of as his wicked grin, the one he used when he was messing about with her. But before he could say anything further, two cracks signaled that they were no longer alone, and George and Angelina called out greetings to them. "Too bad. It'll have to wait until tonight then."

Fred gave Hermione a wink, then sprang to his feet with ease and offered her a hand up. She took it, and they wandered over to George and Angelina and soon they were once again working to clear the orchard. The addition of double the workforce certainly did help and within half an hour, the brush pile was enormous, and the orchard lanes clear of debris. The quartet stood back to observe their work and discuss the best means of disposing of the pile. George won out when he pointed out that he could use it for fake wands and possibly some other things and Fred gave in and began shrinking the pile down to a manageable size for transport.

Knowing that lunch would be called soon, the group began meandering slowly towards the house again. Ginny had joined Harry in tossing gnomes from the garden, laughing together and seemingly in some sort of contest over who could throw the farthest. Bill and Fleur had arrived and Bill and Arthur seemed to be having an intense conversation, while Fleur had taken over the task of cutting the grass. Angelina offered to help, and George stayed behind as well, leaving Fred and Hermione to head on and make use of the shower while it was free. Given how grubby they felt, they needed it.

Fred called over his shoulder to his mother that they were taking a shower, as they passed through the kitchen. Molly laughed and warned them to watch Hermione's footing if they were going to be doing that again, to the embarrassment of both. Knowing that Ron and Daphne would arrive soon, and that lunch would be ready before long, they did not linger in the shower, keeping to the business of getting clean, save for one long kiss at the beginning, and a few lingering touches here and there. Hermione had wanted to change clothes, but Fred said quietly that he liked what she'd been wearing, so she cast laundering charms over both of their clothes so that they were clean, fresh and pressed and they dressed again. In an echo of the morning, Fred sat on the edge of the tub watching Hermione and her hair, though this time, she was drying it so that it lay straight.

"It's so weird not to see curls flying everywhere, Mione. Your hair is so long when it's straight."

Hermione quirked an eyebrow. "You don't like it? I'm not leaving it down, but sometimes I like to leave it straight, for a change, you know."

"No I do like it, it's just different. It makes you look, I dunno, older or something, I guess. Not like you."

"It's not really any different for you, you know. When you cut your hair off, I mean. You look different as well. Older, I think."

"Which do you prefer, then? Longer or shorter." Hermione was focused on pulling her hair back into a smooth ponytail, and then performing the charm she'd used earlier to twist it into a sleek bun. "You look so nice like that, Mione. Sophisticated, even."

"Longer or shorter? Depends. I sort of like both. I mean, there is something sort of sexy about the longer hair. But then, I think I've always been attracted to clean cut men." She examined herself in the mirror and felt satisfied with her reflection, so she turned around and rested her hands on Fred's shoulders.

"Explains why you were never attracted to Potter, then." Hermione laughed. "Really, Hermione, do you have a preference for the wedding? I'll cut it if you prefer." Hermione ran her fingers through the length of it and shook her head.

"No. Leave it be, or cut it, whatever you prefer. Doesn't matter to me." She started to lean down for a kiss, but was interrupted by an impatient shriek from up the hall. "Uh-oh. You haven't fixed Ginny's door, have you?"

The door to the loo opened up and there stood an angry and sweaty Ginny, with smudges of dirt on her face. "Frederick Weasley, you fix my room right this instant. Now I can't even apparate in!"

Fred just looked innocent. "Ginevra, darling ickle sister, my favorite ickle sister, I might add, I haven't any idea what you are on about."

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Fred, open. My. Door. This _instant_. I have to take a shower before lunch and I have to get into my room."

"Can't open it, Ginny. Only you can. I've already told you, you might have hurt the door's feelings. You should ask it nicely." Ginny rolled her eyes and stomped away, and they could hear her asking in sugary tones if the very nice door could pretty please let her into her room, as well as her frustrated huff when the door suddenly opened.

"Fred, that's not very nice." Hermione stated as they began walking downstairs. He just shrugged good-naturedly.

"It's nicer than what George has got planned, that's for certain. She's going to be in a right state tomorrow when her wardrobe starts singing love ballads at three am." Hermione couldn't stop the giggle that escaped. Fred raised an eyebrow and took advantage to pin Hermione to the wall. "Admit it, Granger. You think our pranks are funny."

"I will never admit that, Fred. Never." He leaned close to her and she could feel her breathing speed up, in response to his proximity. His head lowered and they were kissing quite thoroughly, when she felt his fingers on her side and then he was tickling her, and she broke off and tried to squirm away, laughing. "Stop it, Fred! I mean it!"

"Oho, so Hermione Granger is ticklish, is she?" Fred continued to tickle her and used his body to keep her pinned to the wall, and kissed her even as she laughed and shied away. "Now that is good to file away for later." He kissed her again.

Hermione was having trouble catching her breath between the laughter and the kissing, but she managed to gasp out a loud "Stop that right now, Fred Weasley!"

"Oi, leave her be Fred," came a gruff exclamation from the foot of the stairs. Surprised, Fred stopped his assault on Hermione, and they saw Ron glaring up at them, a curvy blonde witch looking uncomfortable at his side.

Fred's face became a blank mask, and he stiffened considerably. Hermione's cheeks turned pink, but she simply said coolly, "Hello Ron." Fred moved aside and they walked down the stairs. Hermione smiled brightly at Daphne and extended a hand. "Daphne, it's good to see you again. You know Fred Weasley?"

Daphne shook Hermione's hand cordially; they had taken advanced Arithmancy and Ancient Runes together and had maintained a neutral, if not friendly, attitude towards each other. "I don't think I've met you directly before, but of course I know who you are. I visited your shop last year with my sisters. Quite impressive." Her voice was quiet, almost shy, but she seemed friendly.

Fred immediately adopted his boisterous public persona. "Why thank you, Miss Greengrass. We always enjoy satisfied customers, especially those as lovely as you. Is Pheobe Greengrass one of your sisters? I took Divination with her, I think."

"Cousin, actually. I'm the oldest. Astoria is a year younger than I, and Iris is only 12."

"Ah, I see. You should definitely bring her by then to see the Pygmy Puffs. We find girls her age tend to love them." Daphne smiled hesitantly. "Has Ron given you a tour of the old homestead yet, or did you just come in?"

"We just came in the front," Ron ground out. "Come on Daph, I'll introduce you to Mum and show you round." Ron put an arm around her waist and guided her into the kitchen. Hermione released her breath in a sigh.

"Well, that went well. Maybe you two could just go ahead and fight it out in a proper duel, then." Hermione's voice was tart.

Fred sighed in turn and rubbed his neck. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm still angry over what he said the other morning. And telling me not to touch you as if he had a claim. I don't care for any bloke to be mooning over my witch. I'm a bit possessive that way." Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"I'm not a possession, Fred," she said quietly.

"I know that, Mione." He looked chastened, and a little lost, and Hermione felt badly. They were both tense because of Ron and the anger he directed at them. Being short with each other wasn't going to help that. She reached out and took his hand in hers.

"Oi, Fred, it's ok, love. I don't mind being your witch. I actually rather like it." She smiled at him, and he wrapped her up in one of his wonderfully comforting hugs, resting his head on top of hers.

"Mione, you are incredible. I love you," he said softly.

"And I love you. _You_, Fred. Remember that." They stood like that a moment longer, until Molly called out that lunch was ready.

-o0o-

Like most other times, lunch was a lively affair. There was some tension, but Hermione and Fred chose to sit at the end of the table opposite Daphne and Ron to ease as much tension as possible, and to allow Molly and Arthur the chance to talk with Daphne. She looked a bit overwhelmed, which was hardly surprising, given the sheer number of people. Percy and Penelope had turned up, and everyone but Charlie was present. Bill and Fleur sat near Fred and Hermione, and they discussed Fleur's garden and her experiments in canning and jam-making. George and Angelina were near them, discussing professional Quidditch with Ginny and Harry, some friendly rivalry and teasing happening between comparisons of practice schedules and drills. Ron was drawn into some of it, and Ginny was asking after Astoria, a Ravenclaw she'd taken classes with. Daphne informed her that she'd been matched with Draco Malfoy, which sent a temporary silence over the table.

Glances were exchanged, but Harry was the one to rescue the conversation. "So how is Draco these days? It must be difficult with his father in prison again, and of course we heard about the breach of his wards."

Daphne looked a little relieved. "He's doing well. Very quiet, most of the time. He, um, he told me about the letter you sent him and how you stood up for him."

"It was the right thing to do. He and Narcissa helped me." Harry shrugged. "So your sister is bound to him. How are they getting on?"

"Surprisingly well. I knew Draco pretty well from being in Slytherin with him, of course. Once he was away from Crabbe and Goyle, he could be pretty charming. He's different in a lot of ways, now. More mature, I think. I suppose most of us have grown up and put the old rivalries behind us. He's very kind to Astoria, and very considerate. Their wedding won't be until next summer, as Astoria petitioned to complete her last year at Hogwarts. I know Pansy was quite dismayed when Draco refused to petition with her, but it was a bad match." Daphne glanced at Hermione when she said this, and Hermione had a feeling she knew what the other girl was trying to communicate. She nodded, then turned her attention back to Penelope, who was sitting across from her.

"Penny, have you and Percy set a date yet?" Penelope was often quiet at these gatherings, though pleasant enough. She seemed well suited to Percy.

"Yes, but I think Percy wanted to announce it after your wedding. We're planning early December, but nothing elaborate. Minister Shacklebolt has very graciously offered to perform the ceremony, so we plan to do it in his office and then have a wedding lunch in Muggle London at the Armoury House. I'm the only magical one in my family, you know, so it's difficult to explain it all. We thought if we kept it informal and low-key, and told them it was just a civil ceremony, they'd understand better. Of course, we'll be inviting everyone, and my parents understand what is happening. Percy is working on getting them clearance so they can attend the ceremony."

"That sounds like a very nice compromise. So will you be wearing a Muggle gown then?"

"Yes, I think so. Not a formal gown, of course. Maybe a nice suit or something. My mum and I are going shopping next week after the wedding. And I promised to take Percy shopping for a Muggle suit soon as well."

"Do you have a flat yet? I assume you are both planning to stay in London?"

"Oh yes, Percy's leased a flat for us near St. Mungo's. Lovely little place, wizarding building, so there is no problem there. It's got a gorgeous courtyard and of course all the flats are enlarged on the inside."

"Sounds lovely, Penny. Work going well?"

They drifted off into a conversation about healing and Penny's work in the wizard hospital. Next to them Fleur and Angelina were discussing the best place to buy furniture. Bill and Fred were talking in low voices about something Hermione couldn't quite hear. Molly and Arthur were genially discussing Daphne's interests and plans. Food was passed and conversation flowed, and eventually Molly brought out the cake Hermione had baked earlier.

Once everyone had been served and plates were finally cleared, Arthur stood up and motioned for quiet.

"Everyone, we're so pleased that you all were able to come today. It's rare we get to see both Fred and George, so that's especially nice. And Daphne, it's a pleasure to welcome you to our family gatherings, with all the other assorted family to be. As you know, Ginny and Harry here are getting married on Saturday -" there were catcalls and cheers and they grinned at each other. "Yes, all right. Charlie will be in Tuesday, and he is bringing a date with him, whom I'm sure you will all make feel welcomed. Now, there is a great deal that remains to be done to make this weekend's wedding happen, and I know you will pitch in. Molly has some plans for the witches here, if the wizards will join me outside, I've got quite a list for you, though thanks to the earlier efforts, it's greatly reduced, so we may find there is yet time for some fun this afternoon. And of course, we expect to see you all Wednesday evening for dinner and naturally on Saturday morning as well. Now then, shall we?"

There was general agreement, and the family separated along the gender lines. Fleur, Hermione and Angelina offered to wash up and Molly and Ginny went up to Molly's bedroom to retrieve the supplies necessary for their work of the day, which consisted of assembling wedding favors and making the floral arrangements. Hermione was especially interested in watching this, as it would allow her to see the preservation charms firsthand; something she'd missed before Bill and Fleur's wedding with the planning for the trip they were doing.

Daphne stood uncertainly off to one side. Penny was washing up the dinner plates, and Angelina was drying them as Fleur and Hermione put away the leftovers. Feeling bad that she was out of place, Hermione called out to her. "Daphne, would you like some tea? You are most welcome to join us, but don't feel obligated to help out, all right?"

"Oh, yes, thanks. I appreciate that. I'm afraid I wouldn't be much for helping clear up anyhow. I've never really learned household charms. Mum keeps two house-elves." Her voice trailed off a bit.

Taking pity on her, Hermione set out the tea tray and asked her to levitate it onto the table, which she did. Fleur followed, with milk and spoons. "Oh, do not worry about that, Daphne. I was fairly useless myself, except in cooking. Molly has taught me a great deal about household spells and English cooking."

"She's taught me too," Hermione added. "Growing up in a Muggle house meant I didn't have much experience with wizard households, and they do all of that sort of thing at Hogwarts for you."

Penny spoke up gently as well. "Yes, Molly is a very kind woman. She certainly has helped me as well. Though Percy picked up a great deal from her, and he's taught me too."

"Not me," Angelina laughed. "I'm lucky to have learned from my mum. Because Fred is completely right; George is utter pants at cooking. Hermione, you know that he'll be over at your flat whenever I'm away nights."

"Of course. Not like we can really kick him out, now, is it? What do you think we are keeping the guest room for? In fact, I was planning on leaving Georgie's room as it is and turning the guest room into a study, just so he'll feel at home." This received general laughter, and then Molly and Ginny reappeared, an abundance of items and flowers before them.

"Ladies, who wants to do what? Fleur, I know you'll want to help with the flowers, you are so brilliant with them. Ginny, you'll take charge of the favors, won't you?" Molly began issuing instructions, and Daphne looked a little awed at all the activity going on around her.

"Fleur, promise me you won't let her charm them blue!" Ginny called. "They'll clash with the dresses if she does," she went on to explain to Daphne. Ginny had a stack of boxes next to her, which she was tapping to make them fold themselves, and passing on to Daphne, who was adding charmed confetti from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and passing it on to Angelina, who was adding special chocolates Molly had ordered from Honeydukes, embossed with a 'P' on top, and passing those to Hermione, who closed the boxes after activating the confetti so that it would flutter out and hover round the opener and used her wand to tie yellow ribbons around the boxes.

"Hermione, you've gotten even better at that sort of thing. Must come from working in the shop," Ginny commented.

"Possibly. I do a lot of potion brewing mostly, though George was talking about having me do some transfiguration, which would be a nice change of pace."

"The twins think you are bloody brilliant, Hermione. Well, obviously Fred does, but George as well. Perhaps more platonically," Angie said with a wink, "but he raves about you."

Hermione's cheeks turned pink. "He's sweet. Actually it's wonderful for me. I can't study all the time and the practical experience is at least NEWT level."

Daphne ventured a comment. "So you are working in the twins' joke shop?"

"Yes, at least for now. I was terribly bored here. Can't take my NEWTs until June, and I can't really do much until then, and the twins needed some help in the shop, so it seemed like a great option all around. And it's been really enjoyable for me. They do some really complex magic there."

Ginny just laughed. "Please, Mione, I think we all know what you most enjoy at the shop." Angelina laughed as well.

"Yes, getting away from hours upon hours of Quidditch talk," Hermione said with asperity. "Daphne, that's the problem with having four professional players in the family on four different teams. It's practically non-stop."

"Oh, I didn't realize you didn't like Quidditch. You've always dated Quidditch players." Daphne looked confused.

"I don't mind it, but I don't care for flying. And the Weasleys are just a bit mad for it. Bill and Charlie and the twins all played at Hogwarts, so combine them with professional players and it can go on for hours. Thank God for Percy and Penny and something else to talk about." Ginny tossed one of the boxes at Hermione's head and Angelina caught it expertly and they laughed. "So, what about you, Daphne? What are your plans?"

"Well, I plan to sit my NEWTs, at least in Charms and Runes. But it's really more for my own accomplishment than anything. Beyond that, I don't have any really firm plans. Once Ron and I are married, I'll probably travel with him. I hadn't really planned on a career." She looked around a little defiantly.

"So you and Ron are getting on, then?" Ginny didn't hesitate to be direct.

"I suppose so. I know he's still pretty angry about Hermione." Daphne shifted in her seat and avoided looking at Hermione. "When it's just the two of us, we do fine. I'm quite surprised, actually. I didn't know him much in school, so I couldn't believe we might be compatible. But he's, well, he's kind. And thoughtful. We've spent a lot of time playing chess, which gives us some space to talk about things."

"I'm glad," Hermione said. "I know it's probably awkward to talk about Ron with me here. Only, well, he's been one of my best friends since first year. Things are odd now, but I hope that we can be friends again at some point. The thing is, well, I'm actually really happy with Fred."

Daphne nodded. "I can tell. From what Ron has told me, he's just not quite ready to admit that you weren't compatible. He does still care about you." Daphne frowned as she said it.

Angelina decided to intervene. "So, if you are willing to travel with Ron, I take it you like Quidditch. Which team do you support then?"

"Er, the Cannons, actually. Not just because of Ron, mind. I loved them back when Lewisham was their seeker, before he left for Montrose."

Angelina whistled. "A true Cannons fan. No wonder you and Ron were matched. You may be the only two in existence." Everyone laughed at that, and the tension that had crept over the small group dissipated.

-o0o-

The afternoon wore on, and favors were completed, along with floral arrangements, and everything was moved out to Arthur's shed under stasis and preservation charms for safekeeping. The men finished with trimming the lawns, weeding the gardens and flower beds, which Molly would replant later in the week, and Bill and Arthur made adjustments to the wards when everyone else was engaged in activity.

Everyone returned for tea and biscuits, and then Ron and Daphne departed for dinner with her parents. Penny and Percy begged off soon thereafter, claiming the need to visit a store or two in Diagon Alley for their flat. Bill and Fleur mysteriously disappeared for half an hour and returned to the living room looking flushed and leaving no one in doubt of just what they'd been getting up to. Angelina and Ginny got out on their brooms and began tossing the Quaffle back and forth, eventually drawing George and Harry into a four-way game of keep away. Molly stated she was going to lay down for a bit before it was time to prepare dinner, and Arthur settled into his favorite chair with a book on Muggle engineering that Penny had brought with her, hoping he would enjoy it.

Fred whispered something into Hermione's ear and she nodded, and he announced they were taking a walk. Hand in hand, they strolled around the property, though Fred had to cast warming charms because of the chill in the air. They made their way back towards the orchard and eventually to an old large tree housing a treehouse and a swing. Fred tapped the tree with his wand and a ladder descended from the treehouse, and they climbed up. Hermione enjoyed the view from the treehouse, which allowed them to see the pond on one side and the house on the other.

"You've really never seen it, Hermione?" Fred settled himself against a wall, having cast a cushioning charm over the floor. Hermione joined him not long after.

"Really, I haven't. In the past when I've been here in summer, there've been other things going on. And I don't think this was Ron or Ginny's favorite place; I think they prefer the meadow and flying."

"That's probably true. Ron was pretty tired of hand-me-downs growing up, and even though Ginny used to swing down there, she lost interest as she got older. Of course, I think George and I told her that no girls were allowed and threatened to hang her dolls from the window if she tried to sneak up here, which may have something to do with it." Fred laughed and Hermione gave him a scolding glance.

"Now, you said we needed to finalize details of the ceremony. Is that what we're here to do?" Hermione quirked her eyebrow at Fred.

"Merlin, no. We're here to snog away from prying eyes, naturally." Hermione chuckled.

"Is that all you ever think about, Fred?"

"Not at all! Sometimes I think about food as well." Fred smiled smugly.

"Naturally you do. You are a Weasley," Hermione said dryly. She leaned against Fred and yawned. "Sorry, I'm a bit tired. Didn't get quite enough sleep, I think."

"Well, then, why don't you lay down for awhile? Put your head in my lap, and rest." Hermione did as he suggested, settling so that she could look up at him.

"You make a surprisingly good pillow, Fred."

"How is that bun comfortable at all, Mione? Why don't you take down your hair?" Hermione smiled, and with a wave of her wand, the bun was released. "That's better." He began running his fingers through her now loosely waving hair, causing her to sigh in satisfaction.

"So, weren't you going to tell me something earlier?" Hermione asked quietly.

"Don't you know yet, Mione? I'm a wizard of actions, not words. Show, not tell."

"You cannot expect me to be willing to participate in some fantasy of yours without the slightest idea of what you intend," she responded matter-of-factly.

"Good point. Still, have you any reason not to trust me, Hermione? You've enjoyed everything so far."

"Yes, but how does that help me? Isn't your fantasy about your pleasure?" Hermione finally opened her eyes to look at him, but felt relatively relaxed, as Fred continued to rhythmically stroke her hair.

"Naturally some of them are. But not all of them. Let me ask you a question, Mione."

"All right."

"Have you ever thought about being tied up?" Hermione felt a flush of heat wash over her, and she licked her suddenly dry lips. Fred chuckled. "I'll take that as a yes. So what if my fantasy involves tying you to the bedpost and ravishing you until you can't think straight? That is pleasure for you and pleasure for me, because I'm in charge there."

"What about you, then? Would you enjoy being tied up?" There was a challenge in Hermione's voice.

"Most definitely. The idea of you taking control is enormously sexy. I've already told you, a little play is fun. I'm not into dominance or submission though as a regular thing. Too boring, that is."

"So, do you have a favorite, um, position or anything?"

"I haven't tried one I haven't liked yet," Fred said in that low rumble that made Hermione's insides squirm. "Is there something you are hoping to try, love?"

"I, um, haven't given it much thought."

"Now that I don't believe. Leave that to me then. But never hesitate to tell me if there is something you want to try. Either way, if there is something you'd like me to do to you, or something you'd like to try on me, yeah?"

"I will try. I feel so embarrassed though."

"You shouldn't though. Sex is a perfectly natural thing. Even if it doesn't feel that way. It just takes practice, love. And it'll be more fun if you can leave the embarrassment and inhibitions aside."

"I think your mum said the same thing." Hermione kept a straight face until Fred's mouth fell open, then burst into laughter.

"You will never cease tormenting me with sordid details of my family's sex lives, will you?" Hermione shook her head. "I will have to seek revenge if you don't desist, I'm giving you fair warning." His fingers grazed over her sides, lightly tickling her. Hermione giggled a little and looked at Fred softly, eyes shining.

"I really do love you, Fred." She reached up and touched his cheek.

"I love you as well, Hermione."

"I'm glad you'll be here tonight," she said. "I love sleeping next to you."

"Me too. Except I like it better when your hair is plaited. It doesn't tickle so much then." Hermione scrunched up her nose, and Fred laughed. "So, here is a question for you. What are you looking forward to about getting married?"

"Hmmm. Looking forward to spending more time with you. And perhaps a bit more routine. My revising has been off. I've owled back and forth with Minerva regarding transfiguration, and she's been very helpful, but I really need to see her in person and things have been too unsettled for that. I think it will help Ron too, when it's finally just done with, you know? What about you?"

"Definitely just living with you. Though I wonder a bit at how that will be. I mean, I'm used to George being round all the time, but it'll be a bit strange to have you there all the time. Not bad strange, just different. I'm excited about it, actually."

"Fred, we really ought to talk about the ceremony more, so we can meet with Percy and go over it all when we give him the rings to prepare."

"Yes, I suppose so. To be honest, I've only been to a few weddings and can't say I was really paying attention."

"Fair enough. Look, why don't I see if I can find a book on handfastings so we can go over it all together?"

"Sounds like a crackerjack plan to me. Let's go right now" Fred said impulsively. "Flourish and Blotts should be open for another hour or two and I can stop at the flat and get something wear tonight, since I neglected to do so last night."

"I suppose we could. But really, I could just do it tomorrow on my way in." Hermione stretched and sat up.

"Right. Er, Hermione, Dad told me today that they found a monitoring spell in the wards here as well. It was apparently different than the one at the shop, and Bill said it was unlikely that much was gleaned because Mum and Dad don't ever lower the wards since the war. Dad also told me that there are new threats being made against Muggleborns that sound credible, I guess. I know you are a smart, capable witch who would kick my arse in a duel, but I'd really prefer it if you didn't wander alone in the Alley." The tips of Fred's ears turned pink, and he looked a little fearful of her reaction.

"Well, if there are threats, that's probably just prudent, short of an invisibility cloak. Do bear in mind though, Fred, that I cannot have you escorting me everywhere I could possibly want to go. But I promise not to wander alone in the Alley. Yeah?" She looked at him expectantly. He nodded his agreement, and did as he did with his twin; he offered his hand to shake on it, which made her smile.

They shook hands, then Fred helped Hermione up, took her in his arms and they apparated to the alley behind the shop.

-o0o-

_A/N: I'm slowly but surely getting caught up and beginning to bring a resolution to the story. It's just difficult, because I like these guys! Fingers crossed, I'll get some more done tomorrow (off work) because the next two weeks are going to be filled with work as a Very Important Deadline is looming. Hope you enjoyed this; I love hearing what you lovely readers think, so don't be afraid to review. Cheers!_


	13. Chapter 13

_Disclaimer: As always, this story is the invention of my imagination, but the characters, universe, and backgrounds do not belong to me. They are being borrowed temporarily from JK Rowling et al. I'll put them back again. Eventually. Also, it's been awhile and I expect if you've read this far you know this already, but as a reminder, this story is rated 'M' for a reason. There are adult themes and activities that are inappropriate for young readers._

-o0o-

_Chapter 13_

-o0o-

Hermione followed Fred to his room, and leaned against the door frame while he threw some pyjamas and a set of work clothes into a knapsack and headed into the bathroom.

"Fred, I was wondering. . ." her voice trailed off and he popped his head back through the door.

"Yes, dear?" he said in a teasing tone.

"Well, I don't know how you feel about this, but I was wondering if you were open to talking about redecorating at all." She was studying the room.

Fred tossed his toothbrush and shaving soap (his own creation, it removed all the hair for you, and left your skin silky smooth; they were just trying to find the right balance of scents before adding it to the Wonder Witch line) into his bag and stepped back out. He pulled his broom from his pocket and re-enlarged it, looking it over before setting it in a corner before finally devoting his attention to her.

"Well, it will be a bit odd, but since it's going to be your room and your flat too, I'm open to the idea. I would like to retain veto power and I absolutely insist on two things." He looked utterly serious. "One, absolutely no Cannon Orange or Pridetree Purple and two, no floral motifs in the bedroom."

Hermione, who had waited a little anxiously on his terms, laughed heartily. "Honestly, Fred, do I seem like the Quidditch colors type? Or the floral type, for that matter?"

"No, but apparently honesty and good communication are the foundations to good relationships. So I wanted to be clear. I refuse to live in a bloody garden of fabric flowers. I like gardens. You can have a garden. But I don't want to be smothered by cabbage roses in my sleep." He shuddered for effect.

"I cross my heart. No Quidditch colors, and no floral fabrics." Hermione made a show of drawing a big 'X' over her heart with her finger. "Really, Fred, you and George have a lovely flat. I don't want to change much. I just don't want to feel like I'm staying over at your place all the time after we're married. I know that sounds selfish." She looked down, biting her lip.

"It's not selfish to want to feel at home where you live, Hermione. Especially when you haven't had your own space or place to call home for a long time. Just tell me what you want to do and we'll do it. Only, I think George would be happier if we didn't make big changes to the great room until he's moved out."

"There isn't much I want to change in there, really. But I also didn't know if George planned to take any of the furniture with him or not." Fred look surprised.

"I don't think we'd even considered that. Bloody hell, this marriage stuff is complicated. You sure you don't just want to share with George and Angie?"

A sparkle of mischief came into Hermione's eyes. "Oh, certainly, Fred. We can share with them. But then, I'd never really get to walk around starkers, would I?"

"Don't tease me with promises like that, Mione. It's just cruel." Fred put a hand to his heart, looking wounded, and Hermione laughed again.

"Are you ready to go? I would rather like to get to Flourish and Blotts before they close, darling."

"Indeed, fair lady. Let us depart from here." Fred took her hand and apparated them to the sidewalk in front of the bookstore.

"Honestly, Fred, we could have walked," Hermione said, a touch of irritation in her voice.

Fred replied in a low voice. "Yes, but it would have meant lowering and raising the wards again, and the fewer times we do it, the better, so far as I am concerned."

"Oh, right. Good point. Shall we then?" Fred opened the door and ushered her inside. Hermione went straight to the counter to ask for assistance in finding the right section, while Fred hung back, looking over the store and assessing the potential for threats. Finding none and seeing Hermione being led in the correct direction, he went to the counter in turn and greeted Lionel Blotts, the grandson of the original Blotts. He was a Hufflepuff three years ahead of Fred and George, but the twins had gotten to know him a bit since opening their shop. They'd shared a few pints and talked business before, and Lionel had occasionally owled them when new theoretical books he thought they might be interested in arrived.

"Lionel, good to see you."

"You as well, Fred. Been some time."

"Business was brisk, there was damage to repair and we're still behind on restocking." Fred grimaced and kept an eye on the young clerk helping Hermione.

"Oh, aye, I know how that is. Was there something special you needed today, Fred? Or just accompanying your lady friend?" Lionel gave him a friendly wink, and Fred grinned in response.

"That is my fiancée, Hermione. She wanted to find a book or two on handfastings so we could get our ceremony planned out, as it's coming up soon. But there is something you may be able to help me with. It's a little sensitive." Fred hesitated a bit. "What do you have in the way of, say, adult books?"

Lionel raised his eyebrow a bit; Fred had been known to take home a good looking witch on occasion. "We have a selection. Is there something specific you are looking for?"

Fred made a face. "Let's say something that could provide fun suggestions without being too, er, technical, or uh, frightening, shall we say?" He sent a rather pleading look at his acquaintance, whose face showed some sympathetic understanding.

"Ah, yes, I think I know the sort of thing you are looking for. Would you come back this way? There is also a rather interesting book on love potions I came across recently. Perhaps you'd like to see it as well?"

Feeling relieved that Lionel was going to make this easier on him, he nodded enthusiastically and followed Lionel behind a stack of books he hadn't noticed before. His guide summoned three books and handed them over to Fred to peruse.

"This is a Muggle book, from India, I believe. Plenty of ideas in there, but it can be a bit misleading, I think; I mean, look at that illustration, I don't think that's possible without a bone-liquefaction solution beforehand. And this one is a book primarily for witches, as it tends to focus a bit more on seduction techniques and potions. I think this may be the best option, if I understand what you are looking for." Fred flipped through and nodded in satisfaction. It was rather like a beginner's guide to sex, which he hoped Hermione would appreciate.

"This is ideal. Thanks, Lionel. You're a mate. What about the love potions book, then?" Lionel led him back out to the front and Fred's eyes immediately sought out Hermione. She was kneeling in front of a shelf, four books floating in front of her, as she quickly scanned one and set it aside before reaching for the next.

Lionel found the love potions book, a dusty text from the eighteenth century which looked rather promising, and Fred also asked if he had anything interesting by way of transfiguration material, and they got into a discussion about which book was better for inanimate objects transfiguration. By the time Hermione had decided on her books, Fred's purchases were safely wrapped up. He introduced Hermione to Lionel, who gushed enthusiastically about how much she loved the store. Lionel laughed, Fred asked him to be certain that anything Hermione purchased was put on his tab, and her books were wrapped up and they walked out hand in hand.

"What did you buy, Fred?"

"Oh a book on love potions, which may give us a few more ideas. And something else you can have a look at later. What did you find?"

"I skimmed through five or six books on traditional Wizarding weddings, but they seemed rather stuffy, you know. So I settled on book on bindings and a history of handfasting ceremonies in Britain through the modern era. I think they'll be enough to get us started, at any rate. So back to the Burrow for an evening of light reading?"

Fred nodded and they turned on the spot and appeared near the back porch of the Burrow. Fred held the door open for Hermione and they walked into the kitchen. Hermione took Fred's bag and books and carried them upstairs to their room, where she also went ahead and once again expanded the bed and linens. Then she returned downstairs to find Fred telling George about their quick trip to the Alley and the new book on love potions.

Angelina was making tea, and Hermione accepted her offer of a cup.

"Where is everyone else?" Fred asked as the group seated themselves around the kitchen table.

"Mum is still upstairs. Ginny, Harry, Dad, Bill and Fleur went to Grimmauld Place to check on things there. Harry is going to have the Fidelius recast this week with a new secret keeper. I'm still reading up, Freddy, but you might be right about casting it, if what Bill was saying today is true." George looked uncharacteristically grim.

"We've got a bit of time to worry about it, so no rush, Georgie."

Hermione just frowned and sipped her tea. "Something is still bothering me about it all. You told me that there are new threats against Muggleborns, but all of the ward breaches have been against Purebloods or wizarding institutions."

"George and I have a bit of pet theory that some of the breaches have been tests, sort of trying to get the feel for the difficulty of breaking into wards. It would explain the randomness involved."

"That's a good theory, actually. We're still lacking too much data to be able to figure much out though. I don't like that." Hermione was thinking hard. "I suppose, much as I hate it, we just have to wait and see what happens next."

"Well, there's the Order meeting tomorrow. At least then we'll be able to organize something and start gathering information. That will make a difference, no doubt." Hermione brightened a bit at the reminder.

"So long as the four of us are here, Hermione raised an excellent question today, brother mine, which you and I have neglected to consider."

"Shockingly bad form, that. What is the question?"

"I know, I too have rued this day, brother. Hermione asked if you planned to take any furniture with you when you move in with Angie."

George looked surprised, as his brother had. "Blimey, I'd completely overlooked that. Angie?"

"Well, we have my bedroom furniture, but when Alicia moves out, her room will be empty, so I assumed we'd move your bedroom furniture in there. The rest of the furniture is Alicia's, but the kitchen goods are mine. So we're stocked in the kitchen, but the rest of the flat is going to be pretty spare."

"So, we should divide up the furniture then? Seems fair to me, Forge."

"'S fine by me, Gred. What do you want then?"

"I think the more pertinent question is what Angie wants," said George, winking at his fiancée.

"Wise man, brother mine. Always knew you were a smart one."

"Indeed. Handsome too," George preened.

"Only slightly less so than me. So, Angie, is there anything particularly that you want?" Fred turned expectantly to the witch in question.

"To be honest, I don't love the lounge collection. I don't care for the leather. But I do rather fancy the kitchen table. If that is all right with you, Hermione."

"I'm staying out of this completely. It doesn't matter to me at all," Hermione protested.

"I told her she could redecorate," Fred confided in George in a loud whisper. In a more normal voice he said, "Really Hermione, it's up to you, love."

"I like the lounge furniture, and I rather prefer darker wood furniture, so if George and Angie want the table and chairs, it sounds like everyone will be happy."

George clapped his hands. "Excellent! Too bad the four of us can't negotiate for wizard relations, we work extremely well together." Everyone laughed at his pronouncement. "So what shall we do with ourselves now? Angie and I have dinner plans with Alicia and Lee and Katie, but we've got another hour before we have to go," he said with a glance at the clock.

"Exploding snap?" Fred asked.

"It would be something that explodes," Hermione whispered loudly to Angelina, with a smirk at Fred.

"I'm telling you, Fred, you are rubbing off on Granger." George sighed. Fred just grinned and summoned the deck to begin the game.

-o0o-

Bill and Fleur stayed for dinner, which consisted of leftovers scrounged from lunch. After dinner, Hermione excused herself to her room to begin reading her books. Bill and Harry began a game of chess while Fleur, Molly and Ginny sat around the kitchen discussing hair styles. Arthur offered to play a hand of cards with Fred, but Fred said he would follow Hermione, since she wanted to read about the ceremony. Arthur smiled knowingly and picked up his book on engineering once again.

Fred climbed the stairs and knocked on the door. "Hey, Mione. Mind if I come in? I was thinking some reading would be nice."

Hermione beamed at Fred from where she was sitting, cross-legged on their bed. "Of course not. Plenty of room here."

"I'm just going to go ahead and change for bed, if that's all right by you." Hermione nodded, and returned to her book. Fred located his knapsack on George's bed and pulled out his sleepwear. He stripped quickly, and pulled on the pyjama pants and old t-shirt quickly. Then he flopped down beside Hermione on the magically enlarged bed and asked what she was reading.

"I was reading about bindings, actually. I know I ought to be reading more about the handfasting, but this one is terribly interesting. Did you know that in addition to our wands being spelled to recognize each other, that we will have a disinclination to cause any sort of harm to each other?"

"I can't say I'm really unhappy about that. I heard about you and those birds you conjured, you know."

Hermione laughed. "Well, this doesn't erase free will or conjure good feelings, and with enough strong negative emotion, it can be overcome. What surprises me is that the binding spells the Ministry is requiring are mentioned in here. They were common practice for some time in the Middle Ages, apparently, but fell out of use. For good reason, I suspect. It seems they were most often used only on brides, to compel them to desire sexual relations with their husbands. The spells lose power once the union has been secured by providing children, though the witch would remain drawn to her husband. At least they're being more egalitarian about it now, casting the spell on both witches and wizards." Her voice was tart by the end of her explanation.

"What else is in there?" Fred was getting more interested.

"I haven't gotten terribly far yet."

"Mione, you've read half the bloody book already!"

"Well, I am something of a fast reader," she said complacently. "And perhaps you should read this for yourself. But there are some notes about how especially compatible couples or couples with strong attachments might find more depth to their bonds than other couples. Some couples even share an increase in their magical ability, which is where the idea of soul bonds comes from. Some couples who have individuals that are naturally more intuitive can come to sense each other's moods and feelings, even from a distance. Some with a predisposition to legilimency can even communicate telepathically to an extent. Really, it seems all bonded couples will have some sort of gift that comes from their union, but the extent of it and how it manifests depends on the compatibility and connection of the couple when they are bound and what their natural talents are."

Fred looked thoughtful. "I didn't know that. But it does explain a bit about Mum and Dad and how they always seemed to know what the other was feeling. I wonder about Bill and Fleur."

"Are you sure they were bound during their ceremonies?"

"Aha! So I do know something you don't! Yes, all wizarding marriages are a form of binding. It's just that the form has become far more specific with the new laws."

"That makes sense. I don't know what their gifts might be, but the book indicates bonded pairs rarely discuss it with outsiders."

"I wonder if we'll have something," Fred mused.

"I would think so. I haven't any idea how it would work though."

"So you haven't had a chance to read about the handfasting yet? I know I still need to pick my cord colors. Have you done yours?"

"Not yet," admitted Hermione. "But we have to do them before we meet with Percy, and we aren't supposed to see each other's choices. I'm gathering that handfastings predated wedding rings and the traditions of wedding rings and gemstones likely originated in handfasting."

"Wow. I had no idea. Makes sense though. Have you given any thought to the vows yet?"

"What do you mean?"

"Did you want traditional vows we both repeat, or did you want to write our own vows? It's a sort of unbreakable bond, you know. That's why there is no divorce in the wizarding world, because the bond is unbreakable. It only ends with death," Fred explained.

"But the vows aren't unbreakable in themselves? If they were, then surely the Death Eaters who participated in Dark Revels would have all died."

"No, it's not the same thing, just in the family, like. It doesn't cause death if it's broken, only ends with death. Though I understand that we will be subject to fidelity spells, which Bill and Fleur aren't, unless they had them specially written in."

"Yes. Well, to answer your question, I haven't thought seriously about the vows yet. I'll read more and get back to you. Have you got a preference?" Hermione asked, with some curiosity.

"Not in the least." He was quiet for a moment, and Hermione turned back to her book. Fred summoned the book he's gotten earlier and unwrapped it. He began reading over it, as if he were studying potions. Instead, he was studying the book. It had been a good choice, he thought as he studied a set of instructions for performing oral sex on either party. He glanced over the importance of foreplay in a sexual encounter and skimmed ahead to a chapter on various sexual positions that showed them in some detail and explained where all the various limbs should go. Fred chuckled a little at one description. Flipping even further ahead, he found a chapter on exploring fantasies and safely exploring more exotic sexual techniques. He felt more confident that it would help Hermione ease some of her fear, though he realized he might have to keep her from getting too rigid about the instructions the book contained.

After awhile, Hermione's curiosity overtook her and she glanced at Fred's impassive face as he turned the pages. The book in his hands was non-descript but seemed far too modern for a two-hundred-fifty year old book. Of course Fred had mentioned a second purchase that she could look at later. When she could stand it no longer, she finally asked, "What is it that you're reading?"

Fred just raised an eyebrow, and instead of telling her, simply handed her the book. He watched with patient amusement as she glanced at the front for a title that wasn't there, then opened the book. His patience was rewarded when she finally read the table of contents. She looked up at him with wide eyes.

"You bought a _sex_ book?" she hissed.

"Clearly," he stated blandly.

"Why would you do that?" she asked without giving away what she felt about it.

He shrugged. "You still seem worried. I thought it would help you if you had an unbiased source for information. And something maybe to make you think about what you'd like to try."

"That's really almost sort of sweet of you." Hermione turned the book over and over in her hands.

"Almost sweet of me?" Fred's voice was full of mirth.

"Well, the idea is sweet, but the fact that you bought this at the store this afternoon while I was there is enough to make me die from sheer embarrassment." Her smile belied her words, and Fred laughed.

"And here I was, trying to ease the embarrassment. I think you may just be fated to it, love. Anyway, I sort of thought maybe we could read some of it together. But it's your book." Hermione moved so that she was kneeling and leaned forward to kiss Fred on the cheek.

"Thank you Fred. For thinking of me. I think I'll get ready for bed and then maybe we can take a look at the book."

-o0o-

Hermione freed herself of the arm that was draped around her and then stretched. They had looked through the book together, Hermione occasionally reading bits out loud and Fred pointing out various things he was interested in trying with her. She realized after a time that he was trying to make her blush, and suggested that if he was so eager that she was more than willing to try out page 94, which she fully expected him to laugh off. Her surprise when he captured her lips and then whispered an enthusiastic agreement was nothing compared to the sensations of experiencing oral sex for the first time. Hermione was more than willing to admit that Fred knew what he was doing and was extremely grateful for the silencing charms he'd though to cast over the room, because she had gotten rather vocal at one point.

They had cuddled close after that. Hermione felt guilty that Fred had not gotten off, but Fred had declined her tentative advances, telling her that reciprocation was not always necessary and gently kissing her temple. Not long after, Fred was asleep. Hermione dozed fitfully, and finally lit a single candle and reached for the book again. Knowing that Fred liked receiving fellatio, and feeling pleased and a little embarrassed at how much she had enjoyed oral sex, she decided to read the chapter covering recommended techniques.

Hermione was indeed a fast reader, so it did not take her long to read over the information, twice. It was relatively straight forward and the advice on technique was clear, if not simply common sense. All things together, she was rather of the opinion that she was perfectly capable of performing the act and fairly certain of Fred's willing participation in the act; if she was honest, the idea of it was a little exciting even. The problem, then, wasn't willingness. It was shyness. Fred was keen on making sure that she felt free to discuss sex and encouraged her growing sexuality and all forms of sexual expression she'd been willing to engage in so far, which were few to this point. But the frankness with which he discussed sex and the confidence with which he kissed her and touched her and guided her eluded her grasp. She was not so at ease, even if she enjoyed herself and wished to be.

Perhaps Fred and Ginny were right and she was seriously overthinking this. She snorted mentally, knowing that she had a bad tendency towards that. Hermione was not given greatly to flights of fancy or whimsy, and thrived on routine, rather than impetuousness. The previous two years spent with Harry had proven conclusively that while long-term thinking and thorough planning had their place, the ability to act impulsively was sometimes a necessity. She shouldn't let her fear of acting incorrectly or doing the wrong thing paralyze her.

Making up her mind, she set the book down and turned to the wizard sleeping beside her and began touching him as he had touched her the other morning. She ran her hands through his hair, traced his cheekbones, lightly followed her fingers with kisses. Fred shifted so that he was on his back and Hermione gently moved aside the bedclothes for easier access. Fred shivered a bit in the sudden chill, and Hermione ran her hands over his chest, kissing his collarbone. She heard his groggy voice say, "Mione? Something wrong?"

Hermione scraped her teeth along his collarbone in response, and he groaned slightly. She kissed her way along his jaw and then reached his mouth, kissing him deeply. He wrapped his arms around her and tugged her half on top of him and they snogged for some time. Hermione broke away from him, and Fred gave a low chuckle.

"Now that is a hell of a way to wake up." His voice was still gruff and raspy, but he was awake now. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Not done yet, Fred," Hermione whispered and tugged at his shirt until he removed it. She likewise tugged at his pyjamas, which he obligingly stripped out of, followed by his pants.

"It would appear that you are overdressed now, love," came his low voice, causing Hermione's stomach to flutter. She hadn't intended on doing anything but pleasing Fred, but he was sliding his hands under her shirt so she took it off and was rewarded by his hand moving immediately to her breast. Her pyjama bottoms rested on top of Fred's in short order, but she left her kickers on, to his evident disappointment.

To counteract that, Hermione stepped off the bed, causing Fred to sit up. Without breaking eye contact with him, she tossed her pillow onto the ground and tugged Fred until he was facing her, sitting at the edge of the bed, Hermione standing between his legs. She leaned down to kiss him, and he rested his hand on her waist and looked at her questioningly. Hermione felt a wave of nerves, but swallowed them down and lowered herself to kneel on the floor before Fred. She took him in her hands; he was already erect.

Hermione stroked up and down, grazed the head of his cock with her thumbs and moved forward to take him into her mouth. Fred groaned loudly at the contact.

"Oh gods, Mione. What're you doing? You don't have to do that." Hermione did not deign to answer, simply licked her way up and down his cock, swirling her tongue over the tip of his cock. She heard him inhale sharply. He rested one hand on her shoulder, the other stroked her plaited hair. Hermione took him into her mouth again, and sucked lightly, and felt Fred's hand grip her shoulder more tightly. Trying to remember the instructions in the book, she moved her head up and down, and then repeated her actions and tried to be careful of her teeth. She was beginning to wonder if she was doing it correctly, but had no idea really how long it would take.

Fred must have sensed something, because he whispered "Use your hands." Immediately, she grasped him again began stroking in the firm, fast pace she knew he liked and she looked up at him, but his eyes were closed. She could feel his thighs tensing, and saw his toes curling and uncurling, and bent her head down to lick him again. When she drew him in again, he let out a guttural sound between a grunt and moan, and she moved her head faster, dared to suck a little harder and heard him hiss "Oh, yes. Just like that. _Fuck_."

Again, when she needed a break, she took him in hand again, but only briefly, before he said, "Oh, fuck, I'm so close." Hermione again began sucking on him and the only warning she received was the feeling of his fingers digging into her shoulder, before she tasted a bitter, salty liquid in her mouth, which she did her best to swallow quickly. Fred was breathing heavily, but was rubbing her shoulders. Hermione kissed his cock lightly and sat back on her heels, feeling absurdly proud of herself. Fred flung himself back so that he was lying on the bed, and Hermione stood up, and reached for her wand and quickly cast a fresh breath charm, just to remove the lingering taste from her mouth.

"Sorry about that," Fred murmured. "Should've warned you."

"Don't apologize. That was rather the point, you know," Hermione said in a prim voice, before sitting on the bed with her knees drawn up to her chest.

"Bloody amazing, Mione. Entirely unnecessary, you know. But fucking incredible." Fred finally moved so that he could touch her. "Not complaining in the least, mind, but what brought that on?"

Hermione gave Fred a wicked grin and said, "Couldn't sleep."

Fred raised up on his elbows to look at her disbelievingly. "You couldn't sleep?"

Hermione shook her head, still grinning playfully. "Nope."

"You know, that's good enough for me," Fred decided with a chuckle. "Come here, love. I know something that might help with that." Hermione stretched out beside Fred and let him begin kissing her. "Merlin, I cannot wait until we are married. I wanted to bury myself inside you just then. Gods, right now, I wish I could just make love to you, holding you close and rocking gently in you." Fred had never expressed such an explicit desire before, and Hermione shivered, and was tempted.

"I'm sorry, Fred. Please, just a little longer." She could feel her nipples harden, and Fred's warm breath was at her ear.

"Oh, it's fine. I can wait. Besides right now, I've got another focus." He began teasing her body in earnest then, his hands seemingly everywhere, touching lightly, making her shudder and hold her breath, waiting for his next touch. Fred touched her breast, and she arched up under his hand. He squeezed her breast, perhaps a little more roughly than he might normally, and she moaned. Fred grinned at her response and then gently bit her nipple before moving up to bite at her collarbone. He sucked at the spot until Hermione groaned and then moved to kiss her deeply. He said in a low voice, "Mione, do you trust me?"

"Yes," she responded breathlessly, without hesitation.

"Ok, I'm going to try something, and if you don't like it, tell me. Yeah?" She nodded. He retrieved his wand from under his pillow and told her to raise her arms above her head. Fred crossed them at the wrist then used magic to bind them invisibly in place. Hermione squirmed a little, but she wasn't uncomfortable, exactly. It was not physically painful, but it was a little unnerving to be unable to move or to retrieve her wand, but she trusted Fred. And if she was honest, there was just a bit of excitement about knowing he was completely in control.

Fred tickled her lightly, and Hermione glared at him. He smiled and then skimmed his hand down her body, then back up. He used a single finger to trace light circles on her body, which was flushing under the tension he was creating. Using his tongue, he flicked lightly over her hardened nipples, causing her to moan. She pressed against him, but instead of applying more pressure, as she was asking, he pulled away.

Fred continued to tease her and string her along by lightly touching her and kissing her, teasing her with licks and warm breath, until she was tightly strung. The teasing touch combined with the restraints on her arms and the inability to coerce him into doing what she wanted worked on her to produce a higher level of tension than Fred had previously produced. She felt herself on the brink of orgasm for some time, and Fred was maddening in his teasing. His hand skimmed under her knickers several times, and she bucked against his hand each time, and he pulled away. It wasn't until a fine sheen of sweat covered her body, and she was pulling tautly at her magical restraints that Fred finally relented and removed her knickers. He circled her clit with his thumb, and she was so close to the edge. His finger ran over the entrance to her vagina, and she tensed a bit, but she was so very wet by now. Very gently, he slid his finger inside her, to the sound of her moan. He bit back his own at how tight she was. He slid his finger out and back in, as he continued to tease her clit and then she cried out, and shuddered a long, continuous shudder. After having been held on the point of orgasm so long, when she finally released, it was incredibly intense.

Fred released her wrists and Hermione lay still for a moment, catching her breath. He lay down beside her and rested his head on her shoulder, lightly fingered a mark he'd made before binding her.

"Er, sorry about that. I can heal that for you."

"Fred, I don't know what to say."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Very much so." Hermione stretched like a cat, then brought her arms down and rolled to her side. She and Fred faced each each other, not quite touching, both looking relaxed, and not a little smug.

"I have to admit I'm a little surprised."

"By what exactly? That I trust you?"

"By everything. You are a surprising witch, love. An amazing, wonderful, surprising witch." Fred touched his nose to hers and she giggled.

"Well, I'd have to say then that you are pretty amazing yourself. That was not at all what I expected."

"Nor did I expect to be woken up in the middle of the night so you could blow me, but well, I try to handle situations as they happen. Fast on my feet, you know." He winked at her. "I have to say, by the way, Mione, that I really, really enjoyed being woken up that way. Feel free to do it anytime."

"One of Fleur's tips, that is." Fred wasn't sure entirely when it happened, but Hermione had developed a wicked sense of humor.

"I look forward to learning more. My brother is indeed a lucky man." Hermione was feeling tired and sated. She yawned and Fred wrapped an arm around her, pulled her in close and used his wandless abilities to draw the covers over them, as she drifted off to sleep. Before he followed, he whispered, "I love you."

-o0o-

_A/N: Sorry for the delay. I've really hit a sort of wall with this one, compounded by the fact that I had a massively time consuming major report sucking away my soul over the last two weeks that is just about an hour away from completion. Finally. I have the general outline completed for the remainder of the story (and have written completely through chapter 21), but this next section and teasing out the plot from the outline has just been killing me. I hate posting late and disappointing anyone, but likewise, I don't want to rush anything or sacrifice quality. Bah! Anyhow, I promise that the wedding is finally upon us, and there will be a bit more forward plot in the next. This chapter was necessary though, for Hermione and Fred's growing relationship. I hope you enjoyed it. I will post Chapter 14 on time, as it were, though we'll have to see what happens beyond that, whether or not writer's block continues to hold me close. Hope everyone is well. Cheers!_


	14. Chapter 14

_Disclaimer: Only the bits of vaguely original plot contained herein is mine; the rest consisting of characters, backgrounds, universe, etc belong to others. I do this for fun, and now and then, an ego boost._

-o0o-

_Chapter 14_

-o0o-

The meeting of the reformed Order of the Phoenix was held at Grimmauld Place, at Harry's insistence. The Fidelius had been recast, making it secure once again. Unfortunately, little new information was gained beyond what Hermione, Fred, George, Harry, Bill and Arthur had already surmised.

However, security precautions were reinstated and everyone divided into smaller groups with specific aims; Arthur and Bill were in a group that was working on creating new coded messages for fast and secret communications. Fred and George were tasked with information gathering; their shop was ideally placed and frequently visited enough to give them insight and their relationships with vendors, customers and other merchants would help as well. Hermione was asked to work with Ron and Percy to plot out the attacks that seemed linked and look for connections or parallels to try and figure out what the motives were and what the ultimate objectives might be.

Fred insisted on Hermione coming to the flat for dinner after that meeting, and seeing him look torn between following her and following his twin, she gave in. Once they were safely ensconced at the flat, she returned to the Burrow for the night, leaving Fred looking grim, but relieved.

-o0o-

Hermione did go to the shop on Monday before the Order meeting, but stayed home on Tuesday morning to help Molly with preparations in the house, since Charlie and his date would be arriving. Hermione was upstairs making certain that Percy's old room was ready for the new arrivals and had just finished plumping the pillows when she heard the thud outside that signaled a port-key arrival.

She heard Molly rush outside and heard footsteps on the stairs, indicating Ginny was on her way down to greet her brother. Hermione followed suit, and stepped onto the porch, a smile on her face, to find Charlie with sheepish grin, standing next to a familiar face.

"Mum, I'm not sure if you remember Viktor Krum?"

-o0o-

Harry and Hermione were escorting Viktor on a tour of the property, giving Charlie a chance to sit down with his mum and talk to her about his current dating situation. Viktor shuffled along a bit uncertainly, and it seemed that no one knew quite what to say.

Hermione broke the ice. "So, how did you and Charlie meet, then?"

"We met at the wedding last year," Krum answered in his thick accent. "Fleur introduced us, and we began talking about the differences in Bulgaria and Romania and about Quidditch. Charlie was a seeker too, you know? Good enough to have offers from professional teams. We just got along very well, you know?"

Harry and Hermione both nodded. "He invited me to come see the dragon reserve. Of course, I was invited before, but had not had time before. There was a break in November, so I went. I think it took both of us by surprise, you know? I do like girls, after all."

"Pleased to hear it," Hermione muttered under her breath. Harry elbowed her in the ribs and she grimaced.

"I saw Charlie working with the dragons, and he was so strong and so beautiful and graceful. I have never wanted to kiss someone so badly. I surprised him, and he surprised me by kissing me in return." Krum shrugged. "We have been dating ever since. He is a good wizard; strong and kind."

"They are a good family," Harry said pleasantly. "So things have been going well between you, then? How often do you get to see each other?"

"Well, the training for the Bulgarian team is intense, but they give us weekends off. I apparate to the reserve, usually. Sometimes, Charlie visits me, when he can take a day off."

"It's a shame you don't get to see more of each other." Krum shifted slightly.

"Yes, well, I have been trying to talk him into moving in with me. It's not a long distance to apparate to the reserve from my home. But I think he worries about what the family thinks. I do not like leaving him to do this by himself."

Hermione touched his arm, hesitantly. "I don't think most of them will care, honestly, though it may be a bit of a shock."

"If Charlie is happy, they'll be happy for him, even if what makes him happy isn't the most conventional relationship. And I'm glad you're here. I had been disappointed when your invitation was declined."

"You are too good, Harry. And you, Hermy-own-knee. Charlie told me you are getting married soon as well, to one of his brothers. I know he's planning to stay here through, unless his parents do not welcome him, but I cannot stay so long."

"It's quite all right, Viktor, though if you can get away, you are most welcome. Well, I promised to be at the shop today, and I'd like to eat, so shall we go see how things are going?" All three of them were dreading a return to the house, unsure of the reception they'd find, but Hermione's urging moved them forward.

Things were quiet as they approached the house. Tentatively, they entered, and found a calm Charlie and Molly with tea things before them. Molly's eyes were a bit red, but that was the only sign of anything amiss. She immediately jumped up and gave a surprised Viktor an enormous hug, to Charlie's evident delight.

"Viktor, Charlie has been telling me all about you and how you met, and I'm so pleased you came with him. Let me show you up to your room, and you can get settled and then we'll have some lunch, all right? Good." She practically yanked him through the kitchen in her haste to make him feel welcome.

"Thanks for talking with Viktor. I know that must have been awkward. I've been wanting to say how things are for some time, but wasn't quite sure how. Mum's taken it loads better than I expected. I was afraid she'd throw us out immediately or shriek about grandchildren, but she seems ok." Charlie ran a hand through his short hair, and looked at his two soon-to-be-relations with some trepidation. "Er, it's not a problem for you, is it? I feel I should have said something before the wedding, Harry, I'm really quite sorry."

Harry slapped Charlie on the shoulder. "'S fine by me, mate. Krum's a good man. If you are happy being with him, well, that's the important thing, innit?"

"Thanks mate. Hermione, it must be really odd for you, me bringing your ex-boyfriend by. I'm sorry for springing it on you."

Hermione just laughed and sank down into a chair and summoned a teacup, speaking as she poured. "Charlie, stop and think for a moment. I am already living here with your youngest brother, my ex-boyfriend, whom I broke up with rather than marry, and then found myself bound to marry another of your younger brothers. You bringing my school-days date in for a visit is not the strangest or most uncomfortable thing that has happened to me in recent months." She added sugar, then sipped her tea with a smile on her face.

"Good point. So, I'll be staying through your wedding, though Viktor can't. World Cup training, you know. At least we should be able to score excellent tickets for the qualifiers this year."

"Charlie, Hermione hates Quidditch talk, you know. Bores her stiff." Harry winked at his best friend.

"Right. That's why she's marrying the prankster instead." Charlie smiled at her. "How is Fred doing? Mum was worried about him, and George only ever says he's dandy. You two get along well?"

"They get along better than well, I'd say," Harry whispered loudly.

"At least we remember the silencing charms, Harry. We heard you and Ginny in the hall Sunday night, you know, which you know means Molly heard you as well." Harry went pale for a moment, and Hermione looked pleased with her revenge. "Anyway, Charlie, yes, we get on quite well. Better than I think anyone would have guessed. And Fred's doing well enough. I think he's still somewhat bothered by everything that happened, but George and Angie have both told me that he's been sleeping better and is more cheerful of late."

"Good to hear. And how is my favorite little sister?" Charlie called to the witch standing in the doorway.

"Just fine, brother dearest. I take it Mum's come around?" Ginny shook her hair back and quirked an eyebrow.

"Yeah, you were right enough, Firefly," Charlie admitted softly.

"I usually am," Ginny said complacently, and then Viktor and Molly reappeared and she began pulling meats and cheeses out of the charmed icebox to prepare sandwiches and in no time at all they were all scarfing them down. Hermione ate as quickly as she could, then excused herself to run upstairs and change into working clothes for brewing, which tended to be old jeans and jumpers she didn't mind spilling on or ruining if something got through her work robes.

She waved to the group in the kitchen and then floo'd to the flat, where George and Angelina were snogging in the kitchen. Hermione was no longer embarrassed about this, and usually just ignored them in favor of not disturbing them, but this time, she called out to them.

"I'm going to get Fred and you two are going to want to hear about Charlie's date." Then she was hurrying down the stairs and into the workroom, calling for Fred. He was not in the workroom, but instead on the sales floor, helping a young customer trying to decide between a purple and a pink Pygmy Puff. He winked to acknowledge that she'd called, and then returned all his attention to the little girl in front of him.

"Right then. Well, this pink one is a pretty adventurous little fellow, yeah? And that purple one in the corner looks as if she wants a new friend. Is there one you like better, lassie?" The little girl bit her lip and shook her head. Fred picked up the purple one and set it in her hands, where the ball of fluff wriggled and cooed, and the little girl's eyes lit up. "I think this may be the one then. What's her name, now?"

"Poppy!" exclaimed the little girl.

"Why, I think Poppy suits her perfectly. She's meant to be yours, right enough. All set then? Ok, your mum and I will just pick out some things for taking care of Poppy and then you can get her settled at home." Fred winked at the little girl, directed her smiling mother to pick up a bag of items prepared for Pygmy Puff owners and waved them on towards Verity at the register, before finally making his way to Hermione.

He wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her cheek. Before he could do anything more, she told him she had news and dragged him upstairs.

"What's the big news, Granger?" George asked. "She ran through shouting something about Charlie's date and then ran away again."

"Charlie's date, eh? What, does she have warts?" Fred teased.

"Six fingers on one hand?" George took it up.

"Eleven toes on both feet?"

"Is she a hag?"

"Is she a Muggle?"

"Does she have a terrible secret?"

"Is she really a dark witch?"

"Or a vampire?"

"Or a werewolf?"

"Or a vampire werewolf?"

"Come on, Gred, that's not possible, and you know it," Fred scoffed.

Throughout the exchange, Hermione waited patiently, but saw her opening. "She's not a she at all. Charlie is dating Viktor Krum."

Fred and George had identically stunned expressions on their faces. "Wait. The Bulgarian Seeker?"

"Triwizard Champion?"

"Bloke you dated your fourth year?"

"The very same," Hermione confirmed. The twins looked at each other, one of their silent conversations flying between them.

"Makes sense, in a way," George said first.

"I did sort of wonder if he was bent. Blew through witches faster then Bill, and that's saying something."

"I wouldn't have guessed," Angelina said, speaking for the first time.

"And you dated Krum! I thought he preferred girls," Fred said. "He certainly seemed to be attracted to Fleur's veela cousins at the wedding."

Angelina's voice was rather dry. "If I recall correctly, so did you and every other male there but Bill."

"Yes, well, he said he normally prefers women, but that he and Charlie met at the wedding and enjoyed talking and when he visited the reserve, he thought Charlie working with the dragons was really beautiful. He's been trying to talk Charlie into moving in with him, apparently."

"Well, at least we'll get good tickets to the Cup out of it," George said philosophically.

-o0o-

Ginny's entire face was lit with the radiance of her smile as she floated down the aisle on her father's arm. Hermione, as maid of honor, followed sedately behind, clutching her bouquet of yellow flowers and feeling everyone's eyes on her. She took her place, followed by the rest of the bridesmaids. Once the bridal party was aligned on either side of the makeshift alter, denoted primarily by an arch of extraordinary yellow roses, fairies suddenly began lighting it brilliantly.

She could see Harry, who was completely consumed by Ginny; she didn't blame him. Ginny looked more beautiful and happy than Hermione had ever seen her look, the crystal spars on her dress twinkling, the tiara glowing atop her fiery red cascade of curls. Ron stood behind Harry, and was softened enough by the occasion to give her a half smile before looking anywhere else.

She knew Fred was further down the line of Harry's groomsmen, but she couldn't see him from where she stood. Hermione knew she ought to be paying attention to the ceremony uniting her best friends, but she got weepy each time she listened too closely. Harry and Ginny loved each other, this ceremony was a mere formality. Their promises to each other had been made immediately after Voldemort fell.

Hermione smiled as she watched the pair exchange their rings. Harry slid the band with seven yellow diamonds onto Ginny's finger and slipped her engagement ring back into place, at the same time that Ginny slipped a modest gold band inset with three small emeralds onto Harry's finger. They then held hands and the binding spells were cast over them, followed by the traditional shower of silver stars. Harry kissed Ginny for all she was worth, to whistles and applause and even stamping feet; Ginny grinned mischievously when they finally separated, but Harry looked a bit sheepish.

They walked down the aisle together, and then the bridal party paired up to follow them down. They gathered and were posed for numerous pictures while the seating area was transformed into a dining and dancing area. Time seemed to fly until the newlyweds were leading the way back in and Hermione was finally united with Fred as they watched the first dance.

He put his arm around her and held her close, and said quietly, "You were absolutely right, love. I can't believe how amazing she looks. It's hard to believe my ickle baby sister is a respectable married witch now."

"He will make her happy, Fred. She's loved him for a very long time."

"Oh, I know, Mione. I'm not concerned about that. I'm just thinking how very, very glad I am to be here to see it." His voice was quiet and more serious than she'd heard in a long time. Not knowing how to respond, she gave him a squeeze.

Fred shook his head to rid himself of melancholy thoughts, and looked down at his fiancée. The soft green of the bridesmaids robes suited her nicely, and she'd worn her hair in a fancy braided twist. "You look absolutely stunning, Mione." She smiled up at him, her brown eyes shining softly.

"You look pretty handsome yourself, all dressed up, Freddy. I like this look."

"How very lucky for you I have plans to wear something very similar in just over two weeks. If you are very lucky, you'll get to see me."

Hermione laughed lightly. "Well, I'll just try to be on my best behavior then, shall I?"

"Mmmm, the consequences for otherwise could be very entertaining though," Fred said with a roguish wink. "Looks like we're to sit down for supper now. Shall we find our seats?" Escorting her with one hand on the small of her back, he directed her to one of two tables set in front of the dance floor, very near Harry and Ginny's table for two. They were sitting with George and Angelina, Bill and Fleur and Charlie and Viktor.

A scrumptious meal, served in a similar style to the Yule Ball appeared before them and dinner was a rowdy, happy exchange. Fred and George kept everyone entertained by telling family stories. Charlie was obviously still somewhat shy about his relationship with Viktor, though they had been wholeheartedly welcomed and accepted. Viktor was clearly the more at ease of the two, keeping an arm around Charlie, and occasionally brushing his hand or thigh.

When the meal was over, Arthur Weasley stood and clinked his goblet to get everyone's attention.

"I wanted to take this opportunity as the father of the bride to welcome everyone once again, to celebrate the union of Harry and Ginevra. We couldn't be prouder of the two fine young people they have grown to be. Harry has long been considered a member of our family, a seventh son, if you will. Harry has saved so many of our family, and of course, was responsible for saving our entire world and way of life." Arthur paused for the cheers that broke out, to Harry's chagrin.

"Ginny has always been a special girl. The first girl born to a Weasley in seven generations, and our seventh and last child. I remember telling Molly when she was born that it would take a very, very special wizard to be good enough for our daughter. Harry, there couldn't be a finer choice. Ginny, we are so proud of you for everything you've done to support Harry and the woman you've become. We wish you the very best that life has to offer you. To Harry and Ginny!" There was a toast as both Harry and Ginny wiped their eyes.

Then with a nod, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George and Ron all stood up and stepped forward.

Bill spoke first. "Harry, as the eldest Weasley brother, I have to tell you that Ginny has always been my special girl. She's had me wrapped around her little finger since she was the size of a pixie. I feel it my duty as her eldest brother to warn you that I know some very nasty curses from ancient Egypt that not even your friend Hermione could reverse." Bill stepped back to general laughter, and Charlie took a step forward.

"Harry, I was the first one to put Ginny on a broomstick and I read her your story everyday for a summer break. I think it's necessary to remind you that I work with dragons. You may have faced a Hungarian Horntail, but it was tied up at the time." He flexed his very muscular arms menacingly and stepped back, in favor of Percy.

"Harry, we may not always have gotten on or seen eye to eye. But I know you are a good wizard with good intentions. However, I feel that it should be remembered that I do work directly with the Minister of Magic." He coughed a bit, then stepped back.

Fred and George linked arms and stepped forward. "Harry, old boy," Fred began.

"Harry, mate," George picked up.

"We hardly feel that we should be cautioning you."

"Given that you are our business partner."

"And have such dreamy green eyes," Fred said, fluttering his own eyes outrageously.

"And that lovely, messy hair," George continued, with a flirtatious wink.

"However, as I think you are aware, we are professional pranksters."

"Especially good inventors."

"And masters of not getting caught," the twins finished together, with a nod for emphasis.

Ron now stepped forward and looked directly at Harry. "Mate, you've been my best friend since we met on the train to Hogwarts our first year. So, I really hate to say this to you, but it's really necessary. Ginny is my sister, and she's very special. What my brothers and I have been trying to say, Harry, is if she ever hurts you, you come to us and we'll set her straight."

There was a moment of silence, followed by a roar of laughter, as the guests all processed the joke. Ginny picked up her wand and tapped it menacingly, while glaring at her brothers, but finally broke out in her own grin, and stood up. Every one of them hugged her and kissed her cheek, and then shook Harry's hand.

After that, Molly insisted that Ginny and Harry cut the cake, which they did. It was quickly served, and music began again, and couples began drifting out onto the dance floor. Fred extended his hand to Hermione, and led her out as well.

"I didn't realize you were such a good dancer, Fred," Hermione said in a pleased tone, as she and Fred waltzed smoothly around the dance floor.

"Ah, there are still many, many talents which you are not aware of, my dear Hermione." Fred winked down at her, and she smiled.

"So, besides dancing and cooking and excellent potion brewing and wild imagination, what else don't I know about?"

"There are one or two things. I might show you later, if you don't mind if I stay over."

"I had rather assumed you would," Hermione replied in a prissy voice.

"My my, getting presumptuous now, are we?"

"Not at all. I knew you would be unable to stay away for an entire week, Fred." Hermione smirked at him, and to repay her, he suddenly dipped her without warning. Hermione threw her head back and laughed, as he pulled her back up.

The song changed to a faster beat, and Fred changed his steps into a foxtrot, and Hermione did the same.

"Really, Fred, how did you learn to dance?"

"Mum taught us all. You might have noticed it at the Yule Ball, if Ron hadn't been so consumed by jealousy that he was fuming over the man currently shagging our brother. Enormously funny, when you think about it."

"Mmm, rather, I suppose." They were quiet for a moment. "Lovely wedding, isn't it?"

"Yes. I think ours will be as well. To that end, is Monday a good day to go get our rings ordered?"

"Of course. Monday's fine. Um, is there any preference that you have, in that regard, Fred?"

"Isn't that cheating, Hermione?"

"I just want to be certain about style, Fred. I'll choose the stones myself, I didn't know if you preferred something flashier or more subtle."

"Whatever you chose will be appropriate, Hermione. I promise." Fred stopped dancing for a moment, and put his hand on her cheek. She leaned into it, then turned her head and kissed his palm. "I just hope you don't hate what I choose for you."

"I doubt I will. The engagement ring you chose is stunning. I really love it, Fred." He picked up the hand with the ring and kissed it. Just then, a presence appeared, and Ron cleared his throat.

"I, um, sorry to interrupt. I wondered if you might want to dance with me Hermione." Fred was wearing a stony expression, and Hermione looked wary.

"Where is Daphne?" she asked, looking around.

"Charlie is dancing with her. Please, Hermione?"

Hermione and exchanged a look with her fiancé. "Sure Ron. One dance." They walked out to the dance floor, not touching. Fred crossed his arms and watched with a scowl on his face. His twin saw his expression and walked over towards him.

"Oi, Fred, let's get something to drink, mate. Let them work it out. We can watch just as well from the bar." Fred nodded his agreement and they stalked to the bar as Ron gingerly put his hands on Hermione's waist.

They danced together, and Ron was nearly as smooth as Fred, but the tension was thick. Ron again cleared his throat.

"So, um. I wanted to apologize to you. Daphne and I have been talking some, and I realized I've been really hard on you. I'm sorry for that."

"I never meant to hurt you, Ron." Hermione's voice was soft, but there was some pain in it.

"I think I understand it a little better now. I wasn't really thinking of you. I was very upset. But, well, you seem to be happy with Fred, and I think I like Daphne. So it looks like you were right again. Always were the brains of the group." He gave her a half smile.

"I am happy with Fred. I think he and I are a better fit than you and I ever were. We don't fight all the time, at least not any longer."

"I want you to be happy. I really do." Ron seemed sincere.

"I want the same for you, Ron. Which is why I couldn't marry you." Ron nodded. They finished the dance in silence, but a far more friendly silence than had been the case in weeks. Hermione gave Ron a hug after and he again gave her that half-smile, a wistful look in his eyes. She quickly turned and sought out Fred, seeing him at the bar with George.

"Firewhiskey, neat, please," Hermione requested. Fred looked at her in surprise, the sour look fading from his face. He poured her a single, and she knocked it back quickly, the only sign of the burning in her watering eyes.

"You may want to take that a bit more slowly next time, love." Fred's smile was returning. "How was your dance?"

"Fine. Ron wanted to apologize for how he's been acting. He thinks he understands better where I was coming from and wants us to be happy." Fred just grunted and reached for the bottle to pour himself another drink. Hermione reached out a hand to stop him. "I have a better idea. Come with me, all right?"

Intrigued, Fred followed Hermione out from the marquee in the pasture and into the orchard. It was a chilly night, but with the heat of the firewhiskey still in their system neither seemed to notice. Hermione led him to the old tree house, and quickly performed the revealing spell to make sure no one else was around, then apparated them into the treehouse.

"And why did you bring me out here, love? Planning to corrupt me, are you?" Fred was relaxing, his good humor returning.

"Yes, I thought it might be fun to have my wicked way with you." Fred's arms wrapped around her and eagerly began searching for the zip on the robes. "Settle down, Fred. We can't be gone long. I just thought a good snog was in order." Then Hermione captured his lips, and they kissed sensuously and intensely. Fred's hands wandered over her dress robes, and under at one point, and she certainly grazed over his robes as well, but after a good while, she broke away.

"Sorry, Fred, but we really should get back. I'm sure Ginny and Harry won't be staying terribly longer and I am the maid of honor." He groaned and tried to pull her back, but she just smiled and stood up.

"Fine, fine. But you had better promise to make it up to me."

"Oh, I'm sure I will, darling. Now come along and dance with me some more."

Neither Fred nor Hermione noticed the dark figure hidden in the orchard, observing them, and the festivities in the meadow, nor did they give any thought to the threats they had stumbled across. Not this evening. That wouldn't be the case much longer.

-o0o-

Once back in the brightly lit marquee, Fred quickly procured glasses of champagne for both of them, and they stood to the side chatting with Neville and his match, Hannah Abbott. Hermione had only exchanged owls with Neville since Ginny's birthday, so it was nice to catch up in person. But it wasn't long before Harry came over to claim a dance with Hermione, and Fred took advantage to dance outrageously with his sister. Harry's dancing had improved since the Yule Ball, but both Hermione and Harry stopped to watch Fred swing Ginny wildly around the dance floor. Harry rested an arm around Hermione's shoulder.

"It's overwhelming to think how close we came, so many times, to not seeing this," he said, wistfully.

"But we are seeing it, Harry. Tonight is not the time for brooding. You just married your dream witch. We made it through." Harry smiled at Hermione.

"And we'll be back here in another couple of weeks, only then you'll be the bride."

"Yes, I know. Hard to picture, isn't it? Look at them. Fred looks happy, doesn't he?" Hermione studied her fiancé.

"I think so. He's having a good time, anyway. Though I'm shocked that no one has turned into a bird or started speaking another language or had their body catch on fire or disappear. Especially after all the pranks this week on Ginny. I especially enjoyed Thursday's, when they charmed her mirror to give sex advice. But, er, don't tell her I said that." Harry's famous green eyes were dancing.

"Oh, that one was Fleur. It was Bill's idea to charm the bed so it would keep her trapped snugly in. And twins said that not pranking the wedding would be their gift to Ginny." Harry just shook his head and laughed.

"I sincerely hope, for your sake, that they don't have big plans for your wedding."

"I've told Fred absolutely not, but I have no doubt the two of them will find a way around me," Hermione admitted ruefully. "I'm so happy for you today, Harry."

"Thanks, Hermione." The dance had ended, and a very flushed set of laughing Weasley siblings descended on the pair.

"Another dance, love?" Fred wrapped his arm about her waist and swept her onto the floor, while Harry escorted Ginny to the bar for a drink.

This dance was a slow one, a love ballad, and Hermione rested her head on Fred's shoulder as he held her close and they swayed together. Fred's hand brushed slowly up and down her back, in an intimate gesture. Hermione sighed in contentment.

"Two and a half more weeks," she said.

"Not that you're counting?" he asked with a smile.

"Not at all. I'm glad you are staying tonight. I've missed spending so much time with you."

"Me too." Fred leaned down to kiss her gently. They were still kissing when the song ended, at which point they smiled at each other. Another hour of mingling and dancing passed, and Hermione was pleased to dance with George and Bill before being swept away into a dance with the now-firmly-appointed-long-term Minister of Magic Shacklebolt, who made me her laugh by teasing her about her upcoming wedding to Fred. She watched in amusement as Luna danced with Fred, and posed for a picture with Fred and George and Angelina.

Soon enough, however, Ginny and Harry were preparing to say their goodbyes, so Hermione and Fred joined the crowd of well wishers. Hermione and Ginny shared a hug and a smiling, knowing look, and Ginny shoved her bouquet into Hermione's arms instead of tossing it, and amidst shouts of well wishes, the newlywed couple apparated away.

The remaining guests lingered for a bit, chatting over food and drink, while friends began to quietly help clean the party up. Hermione tried to help Molly clear the food away, but was adamantly shooed away by Molly, who stated she'd done more than enough. Before she could protest, Fred pulled away, into the house.

"Trust me, love, you're going to want to take advantage of the shower while it's free. There are too many people staying here tonight." Indeed, Penelope and Daphne were sleeping in Ginny's room, while Percy bunked with Ron. Charlie and Viktor were in Percy's old room. Hermione allowed herself to be led upstairs. She had intended to go into Ginny's room to retrieve the slinky nightgown she'd planned to wear, given that most of her clothing was still neatly folded in the chest of drawers, but sounds coming from the room made her stop. It appeared that either Ron or Percy had forgotten a silencing or muffling charm, and that the room was rather occupied at the moment. Hermione covered her mouth so she wouldn't giggle.

Fred smirked, before loudly calling out, "You are welcome in there!" He followed that up with loudly cast silencing charm, then he pulled Hermione into the loo and locked the door. "Now then. Looks like we're going to have to make do with what we've got on hand for the evening. Which is fine by me, as you well know."

Hermione rolled her eyes, and started the shower, before she felt Fred's hands on her. She started to turn, and he stopped her. "Let me undress you. Please." So she stood there, as he swept his hands over her shoulders and back until he reached her zip, which he began slowly lowering. The light touch and the brush of air as the fabric of her robes separated was tantalizing. Fred began slowly peeling off her robes, skimming it down her arms until it pooled at her feet. He took a step back in the small room and simply looked at her. She was wearing a strapless bra and matching silky knickers and thigh high stockings, and was still wearing her high heeled shoes.

"Merlin, Hermione, looking at you dressed like that is enough to drive me mad." Fred gulped and rubbed his neck.

"Don't tell me you are getting nervous now, Fred?" she teased him. "Here, help me out of these shoes, and the rest of this, so we can shower and get to the bed. As you've pointed out, we cannot be the only ones who wish to use the loo."

Fred complied, helping her remove her shoes and skimming her stockings down her legs, taking a moment to kiss each thigh. Then he removed her bra, leaning his head down to take a nipple in his mouth while pushing her knickers down as well. Hermione used her wand to release the hair she'd magicked into place, and lightly pushed Fred off of her. Without waiting for him to undress, she climbed into the shower. It did not take long for him to join her.

At Hermione's insistence, they kept explorations to a minimum, and focused mainly on showering. For her part, she was relieved to wash her face and relax for a bit. Fred, though, had other plans, and since it was clear Hermione wasn't going to allow him to fulfill them in the shower, he was eager to get out.

With both of them freshly cleaned, Hermione dried them with a charm, while Fred banished their clothing to his room, and then transfigured two towels into plush bathrobes, which they promptly put on. The walk to their room was quick, neither wishing to linger overly long.

Fred cast the standard locking and muffling charms and Hermione expanded the bed. "You know, I'm looking forward to the time I don't have to do this every time we are ready to sleep together."

"Same here, though we'll be performing charms on the room for awhile. And you know George will sleep over at least once a week."

"I know. That's fine with me. But I rather liked your bed. Like your bath, it's one thing I'm looking forward to." Hermione sat down on the bed. Fred joined her, pulling her feet into his lap, and rubbing them.

"So you are just marrying me for my private loo. Very nice, Granger, very nice. Bloody hell, how can you wear those things for hours?"

"Well, if it gets you to do that, it's worth it. You've no idea how good that feels, Fred."

"That's true." Fred thought for a moment, then shoved Hermione's feet off his lap and turned to place his in her lap. "Do me then."

Hermione laughed, but did begin rubbing his right foot. "Shite, Hermione, that does feel good."

"Of course it does. Git. Give me the other then." Fred complied, and began moaning and sighing loudly as Hermione rubbed it. She finally was laughing too hard to continue. "You are such a prat, Fred."

He just grinned in response. "Come here, love. Take off the robe, and I'll give you a massage."

Hermione did as she was told, and the massage led to kissing, which led to other things. An hour or so after retiring to their bedroom, they were curled around each other, fast asleep.

Two hours after they fell asleep, the wards around the Burrow began sounding a warning.

-o0o-

_A/N: Happy non-snow-but-tons-of-ice-so-I'm-off-work day! Um, sorry about the cliffhanger? And sorrier when I say that I cannot promise when the next update will be? I am working on it. Unfortunately, work is doing it's best dementor impression and I'm drowning right now. Crisis after crisis, unfortunately unpreventable within the span of my control, on top of the actual job and normal deadlines. I've had precious little time of late to write, to my chagrin. Hopefully I can get some done during this 'snow' day and this weekend and the next update isn't too far away. I hope you enjoy this; this is one of my favorite chapters and was a good deal fun to write. I hope everyone is warm, dry and safe (thinking you poor folks in Australia as well!). Cheers, all._


	15. Chapter 15

_Disclaimer: Only the events contained in this are of my invention; the characters, world, backgrounds all belong to far more inventive and creative people who own the copyrights. No infringement or plagiarism is intended, no profit is made from this endeavor._

-o0o-

_Chapter 15_

-o0o-

When the alarm sounded, everyone was startled awake. Both Fred and Hermione grabbed their wands, and would have rushed into the hallway, had they not both been naked. Hastily, they threw on their robes and opened their bedroom door.

Arthur's voice rose above the din of the ward alarms, probably magically enhanced. "Everyone stay calm and stay inside. Get dressed. I'm going to call Bill and the Aurors before anyone steps foot outside this house."

Fred and Hermione grabbed hands, both looking disheveled and frightened. Hermione was the one to speak. "Come on, if we're to get dressed, I need clothes. Which are in Ginny's room. Did you wear anything besides your dress robes?"

"No, I got dressed at the flat. I'm sure Ron has something I can wear."

"I've got the pyjama bottoms and shirt I borrowed from you. Put on your pants while I go get them. Where did my knickers end up? There is no need to come with me, I'm going downstairs and across the hall, Fred." Fred found them and tossed them to her, and then watched as she made her way down and knocked on the door of Ginny's room. Penelope answered, in a silk dressing gown, Percy blinking sheepishly behind her.

"Sorry, it's just that my clothes are in here, and I need to get to them," Hermione said apologetically.

Hermione quickly grabbed appropriate clothing, and found Fred's transfigured pyjamas and quickly went back to their room. Fred returned the clothes to their original state and pulled them on, while Hermione dressed quickly. The continued clanging sound was grating on their nerves.

"Should we go downstairs, or wait here?"

"Bugger me, I don't know. Downstairs I guess. I guess I'd rather be with everyone else."

Hermione nodded and they walked downstairs. Ron was in his pyjamas, with his trainers on his bare feet. Daphne had taken the time to change and brush her hair. Viktor and Charlie were quietly arguing in one corner, both having pulled on jeans and trainers. Fred asked Ron if he could borrow a jumper, and then he transfigured his dress shoes into trainers. Molly was the only one who appeared calm, but that appearance of calm was belied by her inability to sit still. She continually glanced at the clock, which had moved all hands but George's to 'Imminent Danger'; her only comfort was in the fact it did not say 'Mortal Peril' as it had during the height of the war.

The clanging continued, and Hermione's head was pounding in time with it. It was irritating everyone, but no one made a move to muffle it, knowing that it was a sign that the wards were still holding. So everyone sat, tense, alert, waiting.

The sudden silence when the clanging stopped took them all by surprise. As they looked at each other warily, unsure what was happening, Arthur's patronus appeared and said "All clear, coming through in a moment." There was a general sigh of relief.

Fred sat down at the kitchen table, and pulled Hermione into his lap. He was grateful for her presence, which eased some of his tension. She was relieved for the chance to cling to him, without appearing needy. Molly quickly hurried to begin preparing tea, apparently finding the occupation more soothing to her nerves than anything. A glance at the clock showed the hands returned to 'Up Too Late', and soon Arthur and Bill stepped through into the kitchen, where they found everyone dressed and waiting quietly.

"What happened?" Molly asked, her voice tense.

Bill answered, "The wards were breached on the southwest side, on the road closest to the village."

"What do you mean, breached?" Fred asked sharply. He had thought his wards and the Burrow's were similar in nature, making magical entry nearly impossible.

Arthur answered in a tired voice. "Not magically, Fred. Someone threw a sack across the ward line. That's what triggered the wards. A person couldn't have crossed them without bringing them down unless they are of Weasley blood, bound to one of Weasley blood, physically escorted by one of Weasley blood, or has been given clearance and keyed into the wards, as Hermione and Penelope have been."

Charlie frowned and spoke up. "Threw a sack? Why on earth would someone do that? Do you think it was someone from the village?"

Bill and Arthur exchanged a look, and were quiet for a moment. "We're fairly certain it wasn't someone from the village. No Muggle did that."

"What was it Arthur?" Molly's voice was the sharp tone she used when she wanted answers from her children, immediately. It brooked no resistance.

"The sack was full of dead weasles, Mum," Bill said quietly. The sounds of gasps and sharp intakes of breath were heard throughout the room. "They were killed by _Avada Kedavra_. This was some kind of message."

Molly went white, and groped for a chair. Hermione felt Fred clutch her tightly. "I need to see George. He needs to know." Fred's jaw was set but his eyes were filled with fear.

Bill and Arthur exchanged glances, and Arthur said soothingly, "I'm sure he's fine, Fred. His hand says he's at home. I'm sure there is no need to wake him."

Hermione gave him a squeeze and then clambered off his lap. "No, George should know. Perhaps Fleur should as well, Bill. We're all up already, it's not as if we are going to be able to sleep. Might as well talk about it now. Are the Aurors coming?"

Arthur nodded. "I called Kingsley directly, as he requested." His eyes shifted to Daphne, then to Viktor, the only persons present who were not members of the Order of the Phoenix, and therefore unaware of what had taken place at their secretly held meeting earlier in the week. "He may stop back by to investigate."

"Right, then. We'll floo back." Fred was obviously feeling twitchy, so he turned and disappeared with a pop.

"He's got to check on George for himself. It's all right, we'll be back shortly." Hermione followed via floo.

Fred was already pounding on George's door when Hermione arrived. A bleary eyed George opened the door, grousing, "Forge, I swear to Ares, if you are doing this because you've had some sort of fight with Granger. . ."

His words were cut off when Fred engulfed him in an enormous hug and buried his face in his twin's shoulder. "Here, now, Freddy, what's wrong? Hermione? What's happened?" The confusion was evident, and Fred was clearly trying not to cry. George hugged him back and Hermione put her hand on Fred's back to remind him she was there as well. By this time, Angelina had wrapped a short robe around herself and was at the door, staring at the scene before her.

"The wards were breached at the Burrow. Everyone's fine," Hermione added hastily as she saw the alarm on George's face. "It doesn't appear that anyone came through, but someone threw a sack of dead weasels over the ward line. They were killed with _Avada Kedavra_."

"Bloody hell," breathed George. At the same time Angelina said, "Who the fuck would do that? That's sick."

Fred had now released his death grip on his twin, and was staring at him with haunted eyes. "I don't know. I had to be sure you were all right."

"We came to collect you, since you are just about the only people who weren't there when it happened. We thought you'd want to know. And given that we'll probably be up the rest of the night talking about it, Fred thought you might want to be involved in the conversation."

Hermione was talking around the obvious fact that Fred was seriously distressed about his twin, and with little good reason for it. Angie and Hermione's eyes met, and Hermione gave an apologetic shrug, which Angie waved away.

"Right. Give us a few minutes to get dressed, and we'll floo over. Yeah?" Hermione nodded and Angie disappeared.

"Oi, Freddy, I'm fine, yeah? You take Hermione back, all right? Angie and I will be right behind you."

Fred shook his head. "We'll wait."

"That's fine. You can wait then. Just stay away from the firewhiskey, please." Fred sighed but nodded his agreement. Hermione took his hand and gently tugged him towards his own room.

"Why don't you get a more comfortable jumper, love? Since we're here." Fred agreed absently, but once in his room, he sat down on the bed and put his hand in his hands. Hermione sat gingerly beside him, and tentatively wrapped an arm around him. "Sweetheart, please tell me what's wrong?"

Fred took a shuddering breath. "All I could think about was that he might be hurt, and I wasn't here."

"That's understandable. We had a bad shock, and you've been worried about your brother."

"It's not just that, Mione. I can't explain it. When I was in that place, the feeling was awful. We were separated and I was isolated and it was the worst thing I think I've ever felt in my life. Like half of me was just gone. It was wrong. All wrong. Now I'm terrified it will happen again, because it will sometime, and I don't know what to do."

"Oh, Fred." Fred's face contorted, having finally said it aloud to someone else, and he started crying. Hermione wrapped her arms around him, and rocked him. "Love, it's ok for now, yeah? He's still here. George is fine." She smoothed his hair back, gently, and pressed kissed to his forehead, as he wept.

The bedroom door opened, and George stuck his head through, his face all concern. Hermione shook her head slightly, and he withdrew. Fred grew calmer, and Hermione continued to hold him, rocking him gently, until he pulled away and wiped his eyes, the tips of his ears turning pink with embarrassment.

"Sorry 'bout that, Mione. I'm all right."

"No you aren't, Fred. But you will be. We'll figure things out." She cupped his cheek with her hand, and he turned his head to kiss the palm of her hand. "Now come along, you need to wash your face and we need to get back to the Burrow."

Instead of moving, Fred stared intently at Hermione. "I love you, you know."

Hermione leaned forward and kissed Fred's forehead. "I do know. And I love you as well." She brushed his hair back from his eyes, and this time he did move, taking her advice to wash his face. He also grabbed a jumper that fit him better than Ron's and a pair of socks and real trainers, and they emerged from his room. George was pacing in the lounge, and looked up when they came in.

"All right, Forge?" he asked.

"All right, Gred," his twin replied. George nodded and then floo'd to the Burrow, Angie following, then Hermione and Fred. They found everyone gathered in the living room, waiting for them.

-o0o-

There wasn't much that could be done at such an early hour, but Hermione was right that none of them were eager to return to bed. Kingsley Shacklebolt showed up with a group of senior Aurors he deemed trustworthy. After all, with Arthur's elevated position in the new Ministry, the status of the family as blood traitors and purebloods, and the fact that the Potter wedding had been held there that evening, this was rather a large event.

Molly supplied everyone with tea, while Bill and Fleur and Arthur talked more privately with Kingsley, and Percy watched the Aurors work. The twins, Ron and Hermione engaged in speculation, after informing the remaining people of what their previous speculation had been. They talked in circles, all of them knowing they needed more evidence, or at least details of the ward breach before they could really begin to try and understand. And any time any of them came close to talking about the Order, there was a significant look or a cough to call them back in line.

Everyone was yawning widely and the rooster was beginning to crow by the time the Aurors completed their investigations. No one had wanted to go to bed, but there had been a wedding just a few hours before, and nearly everyone was exhausted. Finally, Kingsley himself gathered the Weasleys and their guests together in the lounge.

"You all need to get some sleep. There is not much more that can be done at this time. I urge you to be cautious until we have some better idea of where this threat is coming from. The Aurors will begin following up leads immediately, but there could be some time before there is a real lead. We will talk more soon. Until we do, be careful. Especially you two," King said, indicating the twins. "You are probably the easiest targets, because of the shop. Be cautious and aware. Someone out there seems to be angry with the Weasleys and unafraid to show it."

King departed, the Aurors departing with him. Everyone else looked around with tired eyes.

"I think the Minister had a point. We could all use a few more hours of sleep," Percy said, a bit pompously.

"Yes, I think we should at least try," Molly said. "Certainly, Dad and I are going to do so. We'll get up and try to have brunch later, all right? I know this is sobering, but we shouldn't dwell too much. No sense in making ourselves sick with worry, is there?" No one dared comment to that.

George stood up, stretching. "Right. Well, I'd say there is a good chance the store stays closed today. I'll owl Lee and Verity, Fred. We're headed back to the flat then."

"We'll come with you. If you don't mind, Mione." She shook her head; Hermione rather felt that the flat would be slightly more peaceful, and she could tell that Fred was still feeling vulnerable and wanted to be near George. As Ron helped Daphne up the stairs and Bill and Fleur promised to return by mid-morning, the twins and their brides returned to their flat above the store.

-o0o-

Angie went straight to George's bedroom and collapsed. Fred and George, though clearly tired, seemed to want to stay up and talk. Hermione didn't know if her presence was welcome or not, and hovered for a moment, until Fred pulled her into the lounge and onto the sofa with him. George went into the kitchen and asked who wanted drinks. Fred requested butterbeer, Hermione pumpkin juice.

George sank into his chair with his own butterbeer. Fred kept an arm around Hermione, and she snuggled into him. "This is a bloody mess," George sighed.

"It is. Someone is targeting us now? What about the threats to Muggleborns?"

"They don't have to be different. If it's Death Eaters who weren't captured, it's all the same cause, isn't it? It doesn't mean it's not a diversion, you know."

"A bag full of dead animals killed by the killing curse is one hell of a diversion, Mione."

"Of course it is. That's the point. Look, we've been over and around this. We won't make any more sense out of it right now. What time is it anyway?"

George checked his watch. "About half past five. Too early to owl yet. S'pose I'll set a charm to do it later."

Fred looked pensive. "George, are you done reading about the Fidelius yet?"

"Yeah, nearly. I take it that means you want to cast it?"

"Explain more about how it works. I only have the basic idea. Secret keeper, secret in soul, others unaware until the secret keeper tells."

"Right. It's a complex charm. The caster can cast it on himself, but it's better if he doesn't. Then he can provide more power to it, which should ensure the secrecy. The knowledge that other people have just sort of fades to confusion. So if we cast it on the flat, then only told family, Lee would feel like he knew where we lived, but wouldn't be able to remember clearly. On the other side, if we told Lee, he would find himself unable to say that he knew where we lived or anything about it. The words would just freeze up in his mouth."

"Isn't that sort of a giveaway?"

"Perhaps, but what good does it do? He's not the Secret Keeper, so he can't tell. Nothing one does could convince him to tell, because he's bound by the magic."

"There is something I always wondered," Hermione spoke up. "Why don't the people who wish to know the secret simply follow the people who clearly know the secret? Track them?"

"They still wouldn't know where it is. The tracking would be disabled when they arrived. It is possible that if they were very diligent, they could get some idea of the general location, but that's about the extent of it."

"What about flooing? You have to call out the name of the place you are visiting, but does the charm allow for that?"

"Somehow it does," George answered. "Not sure I could explain it; theory's more your line, Mione. But people floo'd into the old headquarters, so it has to be possible."

"What flaws exist in the Fidelius?" Fred asked, with a frown.

"Well, it's only as good as the secret keeper, we all know. And while the secret, whatever it is, is hidden from those who don't know the secret, that's not physical protection. We could cast it over the flat, so that no one knows the flat is here or that we live here, but if someone tries to bring down the shop, and manages to break through the wards to do it, the flat will come down too. It's not physical protection."

"Would people really not know that the flat existed here?"

"Number 12 Grimmauld Place was completely invisible to Muggles, but it certainly existed. They just couldn't see it. The physical perception of space was altered."

"I think we should do it. I think it's the safest thing. Bill's going to cast it over Shell Cottage again. Dad's considering it for the Burrow. It would be better if we did it." Fred's eyes slid to Hermione, then back to George.

"It's fine by me, brother. But you have to remember, it's a difficult charm to reverse."

"Whatever you think is best, Fred."

"When can you do it?"

"Not today. There are some preparations that need to be made. And I need to have slept the night before."

"So, when Angie's out of town, then," Fred said with a hint of his normal humor.

"Very funny, brother. By the end of the week, if you'd like. I'll be rubbish for work after, though. It's very taxing. And you need to decide on the secret keeper."

"One of us," Fred said immediately.

"That's the most likely, but we need to consider every angle." George was looking uncharacteristically serious.

"Yes, all right. No sense rushing in half-cocked. Let's go get some sleep then. You don't mind taking care of the owls?" Fred nudged Hermione and they both stood up.

"Not at all. Make sure you get some sleep now, you lot." There was a ghost of a grin on George's face. Hermione resisted the urge to stick out her tongue at him, as she followed Fred back to the bedroom.

Once the door had closed behind them, Hermione toed off her shoes and removed her jumper. "It was stupid of me not to grab some pyjamas before we left," she muttered to herself.

"Just alter another pair, Mione. Or don't sleep in them. I'll ward the room." Fred was clearly tired; his voice was flat.

"I suppose. I don't want to get in the habit though." Hermione pulled off the rest of her clothing and slid into the bed. Fred cast his normal privacy charms and removed his own clothes and climbed in next to her.

"That is one habit I fully support though. I'm behind you one hundred and fifty-eight percent." Fred nuzzled Hermione's neck and rested a hand on her breast.

"Hmph. Darling, you are worn out. It's been a rough night. Please go to sleep." Hermione brushed his hair out of his closing eyes, then rolled to her side so he could snuggle more closely against her, and they fell asleep.

-o0o-

It wasn't the wards that awoke them this time; it was Fred's nightmare. He woke Hermione with a low keening sound. She tried to figure out what it was, and then she realized Fred was rolling on the bed, tangled in the sheets, moaning. He seemed to be fighting something, and Hermione reached to try and wake him.

Suddenly with, a loud, strangled cry, Fred sat bolt upright. He was flushed and sweaty, and his eyes were again filled with fear. He looked around him wildly. Seeing Hermione, he let out a low moan and reached for her.

"Gods, I thought you were dead. I saw you die, and it was just as bad. Oh Gods." He was crushing her to him, and she clung to him, not knowing what to say to comfort him. She made small shushing sounds, as she might with a small child, and gradually felt his heartbeat slow from wild racing to a mere fast pace. When he was calmer, he loosened his hold on her, only to begin kissing her intensely, almost frantically.

His hands began roaming, seemingly everywhere, trying to touch every bit of her skin, trying to reassure him that she was alive and real and they were both there. The urgency of his touch took Hermione by surprise. He was generally more patient and teasing. She closed her eyes and simply enjoyed the sensations, kissing him back as hard as he was kissing her, feeling the desire that he was calling forth rising quickly within her.

Fred broke away, panting a bit, and said in a low voice. "Mione, I need you so badly right now." Hermione could see the tension in his body, and his swollen erection, and felt her own need and nodded at him. "I'm sorry; I don't want to force you. If you aren't ready, just say so. I'll leave the room. Merlin, I want you so much."

"Yes, Fred. Go ahead. I want you too." Again came a strangled sound in his throat and he was all over her again, more forceful than usual, sucking harder, nipping harder, and she responded to it. Even before he threw back the covers to make room so that he could taste her, he could feel her response and her tension. Fred licked her and suckled at her clitoris, swirling his tongue around it, determined to make sure she was as ready as possible for him. He could feel her hips bucking, and he eased one finger gently inside her, finding her so slick that he could feel his cock leaking in response. Sliding that back and forth, he eventually added a second finger, and it was so tight. Hermione was making low-pitched sounds as she writhed underneath him. He continued to keep steady pressure on her clitoris until she clenched beneath him and whispered, "Oh, Circe, stop, please." He gave her a moment and then swept his tongue down to probe her entrance, causing her to moan, and him as well; she tasted amazing.

He pulled away and said, his voice thick with tension. "You are certain?" She met his eyes, and nodded, seemingly unable to speak, but certain in her desicion.

Fred nudged her legs a bit further apart and laid himself between them, on top of her, but resting his weight on his left arm. He kissed Hermione, who could taste herself on him, and was doing her best not to tense up. "I love you, Mione. I love you so much. This may hurt some," Fred whispered. He guided his cock to her tight opening, and gently began to press himself inside her. He moved as slowly as he possibly could, to allow her to get used to the feeling of him inside her.

Hermione felt stretched. That was the only word she could use to describe it. Filled, deliciously, a little painfully. They realized at the same moment when Fred found her barrier, because he stopped and looked down at her. She bit her lip and tried to smile at him, and he leaned down to kiss her deeply, and quickly pushed the rest of the way in, and then held himself still. She was so tight, and so wet, and this was better than anything he'd dreamed of, but he was not going to move a muscle until she was as comfortable as possible. It took a few seconds; for the searing sensation to subside, for her body to better accommodate him.

When it passed, she whispered, "I'm all right. It's fine, Fred, I'm ok." He looked at her searchingly, and she smiled at him, and he began to move again, making shallow thrusts. Withdrawing only a bit and slowly moving back in. He set a slow rhythm, mentally gritting his teeth to hold back from pounding into her the way he wanted to do, and she moved experimentally with him. Once he was assured she was fine, he began to increase the speed, and the depth of his thrusts, and he closed his eyes, realizing he was reaching the point of no return for himself. Hermione clung to him, and he kissed her just under her ear, whispering to her; how good she felt, how amazing she was, how much he loved her. He could hear her breathing increase in speed, and began stroking one breast, teasing her nipple as he came closer to his own edge, and then, with a final thrust and a soft cry, falling over it.

Fred held still for a moment, just enjoying the feeling of being buried inside her, and then pulled slowly out of her, collapsing on his side next to her. He brushed her wild curls behind her ear and pressed a kiss to her temple. She smiled at him and cupped his cheek with her hand.

"I love you, Fred."

"Are you sure?" he asked quietly. "You sure you don't hate me? That wasn't quite what you wanted, or what I had planned for you. I'm sorry."

Hermione pushed up onto one elbow, and looked down at him. He seemed chagrined. "I'm quite sure. You have been right all along, love. Nothing I needed to be at all worried over."

"Did I hurt you?"

"Only a little. I'm fine. Please stop worrying. That was far better than I'd anticipated." Hermione leaned down to kiss him.

"Same for me. Thank you, Hermione."

"No, thank you. Now, come on, let's try to get some more sleep." Hermione snuggled down so that she was resting her head on his arm, and he held her closely. "Are you going to be all right Fred?"

"Maybe," was all he could say in reply. They held each other close and slept again.

-o0o-

Fred woke first, his dreams still disturbed, now filled with shadow images of violence. A very large piece of him felt guilty for the way in which he'd taken Hermione's virginity. He had wanted it to be romantic, and soft and enjoyable for her; not the urge of a moment, borne entirely of his need. He'd practically forced her into it – what choice had he left her? She'd been disoriented from the events of previous night and interrupted sleep and he'd as good as attacked her and insisted that his need was greater than her choice or comfort. The more Fred tossed over their liaison, the more ashamed and sick he felt.

She was still sleeping, using his arm as a pillow, and he needed to move it. He tried to slide it out from under her, so as not to disturb her. It didn't work though, and she stirred and stretched, feeling sated and peaceful. She smiled when she saw him looking at her, and reached towards him for a hug.

"Hey, you," she said softly.

"Hey," he returned, running his hand over her hair. "All right, then?"

"Bit sore," she admitted, and he winced at the admission, a fresh wave of guilt washing over him. Eager to make atonement and to avoid seeing the withdrawal or censure he expected to see in her eyes, he grasped for something to help.

"Let me run a bath for you. I've got some special salts to add that should help." Fred got up, and Hermione sat up, feeling a little shy. She watched him move around the room, and realized he was just as nervous as she was. So silly, after everything they'd shared, but still it was there. He was barely looking at her, but she didn't blame him. Hermione was feeling a bit overwhelmed herself. The experience had been worlds better than she had expected, and the idea that it could get better was suddenly thrilling.

She heard the tub filling up, and stretched lazily, and walked boldly into the loo, completely starkers. Fred was turned away from her, so she slipped her arms around him, only to feel him stiffen. He gave her a half-smile, not really meeting her eyes, and busied himself adding salts to the bath.

Fred helped her into the tub, and said, "Right, you'll want to soak for about twenty minutes for the maximum benefits, and then you'll probably want to shower after, because the salt can leave your hair feeling stiff or gritty. I'm going to go ahead and get dressed and head back to the Burrow, so I'll see you there, yeah?"

Hermione blinked in surprise, but just sort of nodded. Fred caught a flash of hurt flit across her face and nearly slumped with the weight of his guilt. She had been so explicit about wanting to wait until their wedding, which was merely two and a half weeks away, and here he violated her wishes. He could kick himself, no wonder she should be hurt. She'd trusted him, and how had he repaid that trust? By taking advantage of her. Well, at least he could give her some space. She'd be less likely to hex him if he let her be, though it was incredibly hard to do. What Fred really wanted was to go back in there, apologize and hug her and kiss her until she forgave him, but he felt that one assault on her body was probably more than enough.

Fred shut the door behind him, dressed quickly and turned on the spot to apparate away. He appeared near the pond of the Burrow and nearly cursed his choice of landing spot. It was where he had promised Hermione it would all be fine. And now look what he'd gone and done. Feeling a great desire to cause himself some of the pain he'd undoubtedly caused Hermione, he slammed his fist into the trunk of the tree that shaded the pond, wincing as he did it a second time and realized he'd probably broken a bone or two. His knuckles were bleeding, but he felt a twinge of satisfaction at that. He sat down on the bench, cradled his throbbing hand in his lap and let the bitter regret flow over him.

-o0o-

Hermione was bewildered by Fred's behavior. She knew that the previous few hours had been terribly difficult on him, and that he was probably embarrassed about breaking down in front of her, but it was unlike him to shy away from her, or to be abrupt with her. She frowned, and glided slowly through the water, puzzling at it.

Truth be told, she was hurt by his actions. Sex wasn't that big a deal to him, but it had been her first time, and their first time. Maybe she was being overly romantic or a little silly, but she had thought they might at least exchange affections afterward, not that Fred would run out and leave her in the flat. She didn't even know if George or Angelina were still about. Hell, she didn't know what time it was, come to that.

Hermione sighed. It was difficult not to trace this back to what happened this morning. But no, she wasn't going to make assumptions. She wasn't some ninny in a romance story who would fret and avoid directly confronting the issue. Hadn't she learned better from her relationship with Ron? She mused over the events of the morning and came to the resolution that she needed to find Fred and make him talk to her before this whatever-it-was actually hurt them.

Mind made up, knowing it had been long enough to allow the salts to work, and noting they worked a treat, she climbed out of the tub and let it drain as she began running the shower. Hermione resolved to be as quick as she could so that she could speak with Fred before they were sucked into the mystery at the Burrow.

-o0o-

Fred ought to have known that the clock would give away his presence and that his mum would be watching it closely for news of her children, and that his not immediately appearing would result in someone being sent to find him, but he wasn't prepared for seeing his twin descend on him, a scowl in place.

"Oi, brother, is there a particular reason you are trying to work her up into a bigger state than she's already in? Mum's convinced you were attacked and are bleeding to death out here, you git."

As George came around to get a better view, he was shocked into silence by seeing the condition his twin was in – like the night before, but looking even more lost. "Hey, Forge, what's happened? Is Hermione all right?"

A tear trickled down Fred's face as he shrugged. "Dunno."

George, a bit urgently, grabbed Fred's shoulders. "Where is she?"

"I left her at the flat. She's not in any sort of danger there. Least while I'm gone, anyway," he muttered.

"Fred, bloody hell. Don't scare me like that. What the fuck happened to your hand? What is going on?" The concern on his twins face was enough to rouse Fred to respond.

"I fucked it up, George. I fucked it up badly, mate."

"Your hand or something else?"

"Hermione. Our relationship," Fred said with some despair. George took out his wand, preparing to heal the hand, but Fred pulled it away.

"Oi, give it over, Fred," George said sharply; he took the wounded hand in his own and healed it. "You can't let Mum see that, or she'll have an eppy. Now did you and Mione row?"

Fred shook his head. "No. I could handle that. This is worse. You know those nightmares I've been having?" Fred looked down so George couldn't see his shame.

"Yeah, they are a bloody menace. I thought they were getting better though."

"I had another. Only instead of being dead again, or you dying, I watched Hermione die and I couldn't save her. It was bad, George, really bad." A fresh track of tears wet his face.

"Right, ok. Then what happened?" George asked patiently.

"Then I woke up screaming and I woke her up. And I was sort of out of it and I couldn't believe she was alive, and I was just running my hands all over her, trying to touch every inch of her, make sure she was real and the dream was just a dream."

"Yeah, I can remember you assaulting me like that a couple of times," George said ruefully.

"But I never forced you into a shag, did I?" Fred said bitterly.

"What do you mean you forced her?" George said sharply.

Fred sagged even more. "I said I needed her, that if she wasn't ready I'd leave the room, but I couldn't have. She said it was fine, but what choice did I really give her? I was all over her, pushing her. She'd been very clear; she wanted to wait until we were married. I knew that. It's one thing she's asked of me, and instead of listening to her, I force myself on her. I couldn't even look at her when we woke up; she said she was sore, so I ran a bath for her and she just looked so hurt that I had to leave. I'm such an arse."

George sighed, and shook his head. "Freddy, you are an arse, but probably not for the reasons you think. Let me ask you something – Hermione agreed to it, yeah?"

Fred began to object, but George interrupted. "Yes or no."

"Yes, but -"

"NO. Did she say anything else this morning before you ran away?"

"After we had finished she said it was good, but that was just to placate me." George rubbed his forehead in frustration.

"So you woke up and convinced yourself that you took advantage of Hermione, ran out on her after shagging for the first time and tried to beat up a tree? Merlin's pants, Forge, what is wrong with you? You're bad out of order, mate. Look, I'm going to try and intercept Hermione, to make certain she isn't damaged as you seem to think she is, and then you two are going to talk it out. Bloody hell, Fred."

George sighed and straightened up, and turned to apparate back to the shop. He removed the wards, entered the shop and recast them as quickly as possible before running up the stairs and hoping Hermione was still there. He was out of breath, but relieved to hear the shower running when he reached Fred's room. He settled on the edge of the bed to wait for her to emerge. Once the shower stopped, realizing that frightening her would likely make everything worse, he knocked on the door to the loo and called out to her.

"Hermione? It's George. I need to talk to you when you're decent, about Fred. All right? I'm going to wait in the lounge."

He then turned on his heel, marched into the lounge and slumped into an armchair, mulling over his brother. He'd known for some time – since the battle really – that Fred wasn't quite the same. On one or two occasions, he'd pushed him to talk about it, but that hadn't worked, only resulted in Fred getting pissed on firewhiskey. Oh, he wasn't stupid. He'd felt their separation as much as Fred had, and he knew that deep down, that was what was bothering Fred. Things had seemed better since Hermione came into the picture though. Fred wasn't drinking as much, he was sleeping and eating better, and he seemed to be much more like himself than before. Still quieter, more prone to brooding, but there was less of an act now. He was genuinely happy. And given the bits Fred had told him about his bourgeoning relationship with Hermione, it wasn't really a shock that they'd finally shagged. Really that it had taken this long, given how responsive she seemed to be, was the bigger surprise.

And whatever self-pity and self-loathing Fred was wallowing in, George knew well enough that Hermione would shut down anything she didn't want to be a part of, unless Fred actually physically forced her, which he would never do. And even then, Hermione was unlikely to ever be far away from her wand, and if she had her wand, well, their future family might be on the line. It seemed obvious to George that Fred wasn't seeing the situation for what it was in some weird haste to assume guilt. George sighed. This was going to be an unpleasant conversation, and not one he could put off, as Hermione, freshly clean and in normal clothes, appeared in the lounge, concern plainly written on her face.

"Fred's at the Burrow, hiding from Mum and recovering from attempting to beat up the willow at the pond," he began, deciding that getting it out was better than being delicate. "Mum sent me to find him when his hand moved on the clock but he didn't appear in the house, concerned he was injured out there."

"What do you mean, beat up a tree?" Hermione looked bewildered.

George sighed. "I got it out of him, and there is no way to say this without embarrassing you, I expect. When you shagged this morning? Well, he's convinced himself that he forced you into it against your will and he's utterly and completely bollixed up your relationship and that you loathe him." Hermione's cheeks flushed red, and her mouth dropped open. "It took some work getting that out of him, by the way, and I'm sure all of us would rather I didn't know any details about this morning, but well, he's in a bad state, Mione. Forgive me for asking, but did he force you?"

"Of course not," she said indignantly. "How ridiculous. Is that why he ran out so fast this morning?"

George nodded, and Hermione shook her head disbelievingly.

"For Morgana's sake. I knew he was shaken up by last night, but where on this did this come from?" she asked, sounding perplexed.

"You're the brainy one, you know. But I know my brother. I'd guess he's in love with you and now terrified he'll lose you, and going a bit barmy, so he's come up with a scenario by which he loses you before he falls even more in love and that way maybe it hurts less. Best I've been able to come up with for why he pushes me away now." George looked down, the weight of admitting Fred had distanced himself clearly etched on his face.

"Right, well, we can talk more later. I'd better sort him out for now. Where is he?" Hermione said, standing up.

"I'll take you," George offered, and in a moment, they were standing before the miserable figure of Fred. He seemed to cower a bit before them, but Hermione took his face in her hands and kissed him as hard and as thoroughly as she could, taking him by complete surprise.

"Oh, Fred, you great idiot! Did you honestly think I wouldn't hex you six ways in a breath if I thought you were forcing yourself on me? I've been dying to shag you for nearly two weeks now, but felt too shy to go through with it."

"What?" he whispered, finally searching her eyes and face for any signs she was lying or being gentle.

A voice behind them, filled with relief and embarrassment, said a bit loudly. "Right, I'll just tell Mum that you're safe and that Hermione's here with you. Do try not to be too long, as I've no idea who she'll send out next."

Neither of them noticed when George disappeared. Fred was busy staring at Hermione, a painful sort of hope on his face. Hermione carefully straddled him, situating herself so that he had to wrap his arms around her to keep her stable.

"Great Merlin, Frederick. Talk to me if you ever worried like that. Don't you remember me asking you to go ahead? Don't you remember me telling you how much I loved you after? You daft prat, of course I wanted you to shag me. Especially when you so clearly needed me. Do you have any idea how that made me feel? So loved and wanted."

Tears were filling Hermione's eyes, as Fred seemed to be absorbing what she was saying, and he pulled her even closer to him.

"I'm . . . I'm sorry. I just thought how awful I was to make you do that, when you said you wanted to wait and then you said you were sore, and I felt so awful. I know it's not what you wanted, at all, and it's not what I wanted for you, and it should have been perfect and romantic, and not because I'm a berk and -" he said, his words tumbling out in a wave of guilt and apology and sheer relief.

Hermione stopped him by laying her finger across his lips. "Shhh. I want you to understand this, Frederick Weasley. I love you. I love being with you. I loved shagging you, and I want to spend a great deal more time doing exactly that. But you have to promise me that if you are feeling unsure about how I feel that you talk to me, rather than assume. I've been in that relationship already and it doesn't work."

Fred nodded, almost sheepishly.

"Good. Now take off your trousers," she said firmly, disentangling herself from his lap and his embrace.

"What?" he said stupidly.

"Take off your trousers. You can have them back in a few minutes, but I need them first." Hermione turned her back and began casting a series of charms over the area to give them privacy, and when she turned around, Fred was still staring at her. She snapped her fingers. "Come on, we haven't got all day, Fred. Off, off, off."

Shaking his head, but feeling better and now infinitely curious, Fred stood up and took off his trousers and handed them to Hermione, feeling a little exposed standing there with his bottom half undressed, since in his haste to get out of the flat, he'd neglected to put on pants. Not to mention, it was chilly, though Hermione quickly resolved that with a warming charm, and then turned her attention to transfiguring his trousers into a pillow.

Hermione pointed to the bench as said simply but firmly, "Sit." When he complied, she set the pillow at his feet and knelt on it and began stroking his cock, which responded quickly.

"Hermione, you really don't -" he started to say, only to end in a groan as she took him into her mouth and began sucking on the tip of his penis before stopping to lick her way up and down it. Fred closed his eyes, and gripped the bench tightly, and Hermione did her best to pleasure him, pouring as much love and reassurance into the act as she could manage. Despite everything, it didn't take too long for him to find release. His grip on the edge of the bench didn't loosen as he caught his breath, rather he almost felt more ashamed. Hermione stood up, canceled the transfiguration of the trousers and handed them back to him. Fred quickly pulled them on, but sat back down again, hiding his face in his hands.

"No, none of that," Hermione said. "I need you."

Immediately, Fred looked up, and then he pulled her into his lap and embraced her. "Gods, Mione, I love you so much, I can't stand it. I think I'm going insane. I am so afraid of something happening to you, and I won't be able to stop it."

Hermione rested her head on his shoulder, her hand over his racing heart. "Fred, love, we're all going to die someday. That's part of life. But there is no reason that we shouldn't enjoy what time we have. And the fact that I am telling you this has me worried about you. George is worried as well, Fred. This isn't like you."

"I know. I'm sorry. Merlin, I want a firewhiskey right now."

"I'm sure you do," Hermione said dryly, "but you don't need one. Look, your mum is probably going spare. Can we go up to the house and hear what they found so we can go back to the flat and talk some more?"

Fred nodded, and helped Hermione to her feet. She turned back to him and kissed him on the forehead and whispered. "I love you, Fred."

"I love you too," he said in a rough voice. "More than I can say."

"Then please, try for me. Smile?"

Fred looked up, his eyes filled with pain, and he swallowed convulsively. Hermione touched his cheek and he closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath, and his features smoothed out, and he smiled at her, looking carefree and for all the world like his old self. Only something in his eyes gave him away, and Hermione realized with a start that there were layers to this man she had never dreamed of. This, more than anything, frightened her. If he could manage this after such emotional turmoil, what could he hide from her?

-o0o-

_A/N: Well, I know I've hinted at it previously, but there is no more escaping the fact that Fred isn't quite the same person he was before. Too much pressure, perhaps? Things have been moving awfully quickly when you look at the timeline; not even six months ago, he was gravely injured, and things haven't been precisely stable since then. . ._

_I have to say, though, that in addition to hoping you enjoy this chapter, that I have been completely blown away by the response this story has received. I'm so thankful for everyone that has reviewed and that has stuck with it despite the length of time between updates of late. I very much appreciate that people are reading (and liking!) this story; I've had a good deal of fun writing it. There is still a lot more coming . . . Still, I'm just amazed that I've published over 100,000 words and that I've had the crazy number of reviews and hits. So, thank you, folks. I hope that you continue to enjoy. Cheers!_


	16. Chapter 16

_Disclaimer: The characters used in this piece are not of my unique creation, nor is the background or universe. I do make any profit from this endeavor, and intend no copyright infringement._

-o0o-

_Chapter 16_

-o0o-

Four days passed, filled with tension. Hermione and Fred were uneasy, a strain between them seeping in despite the attempts by both of them to return to normal. They had talked some after the visit to the Burrow, but it was unproductive. Fred did nothing but apologize, despite Hermione's insistence there was nothing to apologize for. She had asked him to explain more about what had so disturbed him, but he just shut down. George's arrival and clear desire to talk only pushed him further away, and though Hermione spent the night, Fred was inscrutable, and unreachable.

They had gone on Monday to buy their wedding rings. Hermione had difficulty choosing for him, though Fred seemed to have an easier time. In the end, she closed her eyes and thought about him, laughing and cheerful and loving, and selected a deep red garnet, and asked that the stone be flanked by yellow topaz. It was a thicker, heavier style than she had initially envisioned. However, when she talked with the clerk assisting her, she felt that something smaller wouldn't suit. Whatever she thought about Fred's acting abilities – and they troubled her – she felt instinctively that there were inner layers he would not want revealed, and that the quieter, more thoughtful wizard she'd come to know was one of them. Fred Weasley would be expected to wear a bold, flashy sort of ring. So he would.

Hermione pushed her hair out of her eyes with her wrist and sighed. She continued her work in the shop, but Fred had spent a large amount of the time she was present on the shop floor. He claimed it was necessary to allow George time to work with her on transfigurations, but it was clear that, really, he was avoiding her. On Thursday morning, when he went downstairs before she arrived and disappeared on 'an important errand' when they would normally have eaten lunch, Hermione began to get angry. George found her slamming cauldrons about in the workroom, a high flush on her face.

"Right. What did he say then?" George asked with an air of great experience, leaning back against the workbench and crossing his arms.

"He's bloody avoiding me, the arse. We're supposed to be married in two weeks! And he will barely look me in the eye. Things were going so well, and now . . . I don't understand what I did wrong." Against her will, her eyes grew wet with tears, which only made her angrier. She dashed her wrists against her eyes to clear them, and added 4 strands of unicorn hair to the potion before her, and angrily stirred seven times anticlockwise.

"I don't think you did anything wrong, Hermione. I think Fred's not got his head on straight. He's scared, and he doesn't want to admit it, he overreacted and he's embarrassed by it."

"But what am I supposed to do? George, he won't even stay in the same room with me. He won't talk to me. He hasn't even touched me, not once, since Monday morning. It's worse than when I was with Ron. Fred said he loved me, and he won't even look at me."

Tears again filled her eyes, this time she couldn't blink them away, so when she added the next ingredient to the potion she was brewing, she picked up the powdered asphodel instead of the ground cowslip, which addition immediately caused the potion to double in volume and change to a sickly green color, which startled Hermione, causing her to drop the glass stirrer she held in her hands. The tinkling sound of shattering glass seemed to be her limit.

Frustration blew up, and Hermione picked up the nearest flagon and threw it at the wall, feeling a grim satisfaction when it shattered. Before she could pick up anything else, she felt George's hands on her shoulders – so like Fred's – and he pulled her into a hug while she sobbed.

"Shhhhh, it's going to be ok. Nothing that can't be fixed. It's going to be fine." He held her and rocked her until her sobs reduced to sniffles. "It's just a small disagreement. They are bound to crop up now and then, you know. Not the end of the world. It just doesn't feel particularly good, I know. Now look. You've not eaten. Go upstairs, get something to eat and then I want you to take a long nap, all right? I'll clean this up, and you get some rest. We'll work on other products this afternoon. Yeah?"

Hermione wipe her eyes and nodded. She hadn't been sleeping well since before the wedding, really. Maybe a nap would help. Certainly she was in no condition to return to the Burrow where Molly would fuss over her and ask uncomfortable questions. She wasn't hungry, but she forced down a leftover scone and some cheese before hesitating before Fred's door. Always before, she'd made herself at home there, but now she felt shut out, wondered if she was invading his territory. Then with a defiance she didn't know she possessed, she marched in anyway. If Fred didn't like it, he could tell her so himself. Then at least they'd be talking.

-o0o-

George frowned as he looked over the mess Hermione had created in the workroom. He thought about cleaning it up, as it would take only a few quick spells, but decided he'd had just about enough of the two of them moping about, tiptoeing round each other like scared mice. It was rare for Hermione to show her emotions, so this was surprising to him, and a sign of just how hurt and upset she was. He decided Fred should see it; maybe it would snap him out of his funk. Something had to; he'd taken up his old habit of secluding himself with a bottle of firewhiskey, and that was the last thing George wanted him to be doing.

He returned to the sales floor and was cheerful and outgoing and watchful. When his brother came back in, scowling, he jovially threw his arm around his twin's shoulders and guided him into the workroom. Fred was smart enough not to protest while customers were about, but he glared at George until he got a good look at the workroom, with broken glass and a slimy green potion still oozing over the worktable into a gelatinous pile on the floor.

"What happened in here? What is that potion supposed to be?"

"I believe it's suppose to be the base for half the bleeding Wonder Witch line, but Hermione was rather upset when she was brewing and she added asphodel instead of cowslip."

"Why would she do that? What do you mean she was upset?" Fred looked startled.

"She was crying, Fred. She had a total breakdown after you left, and this is the result. Now, I'm trying very hard not to interfere in your relationship, but she's got herself in a right state, blaming herself for whatever the bloody fuck is going wrong here. Pull your head out your arse and clean up your mess. Why are you avoiding her anyway?"

Fred hung his head. "I dunno."

"That's not good enough, Forge. Look, everyone goes through patches and you have to work out how to communicate with each other. This is the first really rough patch you've hit and it's taken you both by surprise. Remember when you said you were afraid of bollixing it up? Well, you're doing that. Now you need to fix it."

George crossed his arms and looked sternly at Fred, a look that made Fred's lips twitch, it was such a foreign sort of look on his twin's face, something that would have been more at home on his father's face, really.

"All right, you're right. How do I fix it? I've never had this problem before."

"Well, not shutting her out would be a cracking good start. Same goes for me, for that matter. I know what bothers you, brother mine. I felt it too. But shutting me out doesn't make that go away, nor does drinking firewhiskey like it's bloody pumpkin juice."

Fred tensed up and started to protest, but George held a hand up. "No, I'm not trying to force you into telling me anything you aren't ready to talk about. I'm just reminding you that you may be able to fool other people, but not me, your other fucking half. And it looks like not Hermione anymore either. As for her, I recommend apologies, and groveling. Sincere groveling. Stop avoiding her. It's making her damned paranoid and making her doubt herself. Frankly, you're treating her like Ron did, and you're fucking better than that."

Fred slumped his shoulders, but nodded his head, the tips of his ears were red. "Where is she?"

"I sent her upstairs to eat and take a nap. She's a bloody wreck. Because I'm the best brother you could ever have, I will take care of the store while you go find some good groveling items to make your oh-so-important errand seem to be about her and not about your damned brooding. And I'll close up tonight, and go over to Angie's so you two can work this out in peace. So long as you take tomorrow to get us caught on Daydream Charms and animal-transfiguring sweets for Halloween. We're running precariously low."

Fred nodded again. Pulling out his wand, he carefully vanished the slimy green potion, cleaned the remains of the shattered glass flagon and scourgified the cauldron. He replaced the remaining ingredients in their proper places and removed his work robe before venturing back out.

He assumed he would need to find something really amazing to make his disappearance worthwhile, but he wasn't sure where to look, though he rather expected that Flourish and Blotts would be a good place to begin.

-o0o-

Hermione was still sleeping when Fred returned with a parcel in his hands. George nodded at him and he shrugged in response, their connection speaking volumes to each other. Fred opened the parcel and removed supplies for the dinner he intended to cook for her, and started making a special tea he hoped she'd like. Flowers – a bouquet filled with lilies and gerbera daisies – went into a vase and onto the table. A small box wrapped in silver paper went onto the tea tray with the tea and a large red daisy. Carefully, he levitated it into his bedroom, where she was asleep, and he set it beside the bed.

Fred knelt beside the tea tray, and tentatively reached out to touch Hermione. He gently brushed her hair off her face, and felt a surge of protectiveness and love fill him. He had hurt her, he knew it. And from his confusion and his sorrow at hurting her, at what he realized was a lack of trust in her, he had withdrawn from her, making it all worse. He just hadn't known how to handle her questions and probing and insistence when he couldn't fully articulate the answers himself.

"Mione, love, wake up," he said softly, running his hand over her hair. She stirred, turning her head and pressing it up into his strokes, as a cat might do. She stretched and opened her eyes. At first, he saw pleasure in her face, and then wariness, which cut him. But he knew he'd caused it by avoiding her. "Hey you," he said.

"Hey," she responded in a neutral tone.

"I've been an enormous prat. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Hermione pushed herself into a seated position, and looked at him. Fred stood up, and waved the tea tray towards her. "Here, I made tea. May I sit with you?"

Hermione nodded, still watching him, and lightly fingered the daisy. "Why have you been avoiding me?"

Fred sighed a bit. "I didn't know what to say or how to act. You had questions, legitimate fair questions, and I didn't know how to answer them. I needed some time to work it out for myself, and I should have told you that, instead of trying to force the space I needed."

"What did I do wrong?" Hermione voiced her question with bewilderment.

"You didn't do anything wrong, unless you pushed too hard. I've always been pants at this part of relationships, Mione. It's going to take some stumbling and hurt feelings. I bloody overreacted on Sunday, and I didn't know how to act after that. I was so afraid I'd screwed up, and then . . . I screwed up."

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize I was pushing. You just confused me, and scared me."

Fred traced the pattern on of the bedspread. "I know. It scared me too. I didn't trust you like I should have. And when I realized that, I felt like the world's biggest git."

"I think it's less me that you didn't trust. I don't think you really trusted yourself. Which isn't like you."

There was a moment of quiet. Hermione sipped her tea. "What is this? I don't think I've ever had it before."

"Lavender Earl Grey. It's soothing and smells really lovely, so I thought you might like it."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "You got this for me?"

"Yes, that's why I went out today. I thought that maybe I should do something nice for you." Fred looked up hopefully.

"I'd have been happy enough with you treating me normally," she said quietly.

"I know. I'm sorry. I just needed to do something. Trying to be normal wasn't working so well."

"You promised to talk to me, Fred." The pain was evident on her face.

"I know. The problem is that I didn't know what to say."

"And you're sorry. I know." Hermione sighed. "Are you really sorry, Fred? You can't do this when we're married. I won't go away. You can't just ignore me, you know?"

"I know," he said, looking her directly in the eye for the first time.

"All right, then. Let's just try to get back to where we were before, shall we? I don't like how this feels. It's all wrong."

Fred tentatively reached out and took her hand in his and she squeezed it reassuringly. "Why don't you try asking me your questions again?"

"No, they can wait. There is something else I'd rather do," Hermione said softly.

Fred's heart leapt into his throat. "What's that?" he asked in a near whisper.

"Make love to me. Do it how you wanted to do it the first time. Show me that you love me. That's how you can make it up to me, love." Her grip on his hand had became painful, almost urgent. "I need to know you aren't lying to me now."

Fred blinked to clear his eyes of the tears that had suddenly clouded his vision. He pushed himself off the bed and took her cup from her and banished the tea tray to the corner of the room. Then he leaned down and took her face in his hands and kissed her for the first time in days. Kissed her fully, deeply and with a hunger borne of self-denial. He kissed her cheek and jaw and said in a low, raspy voice, "Whatever I do, however big a prick I am, whatever I fuck up, never ever doubt for an instant that I love you. If there is anything true about me besides George, it's how I feel about you. I've been such a bleedin' idiot, staying away from you. I needed space, but I needed you more. You make me stable and happy. You make me feel more like I used to feel. You are an incredible, amazing, beautiful witch and you deserve far, far better than me. I am going to screw up again, and hurt you and make you angry, but it will be because I'm an idiot, not because I don't love you."

"Show me. I need you, Fred," she said in a breathy whisper.

So he began undressing her slowly, kissing her skin as he went along, and stripping off his clothes when she was nude. And then he began an afternoon of slow, gentle lovemaking, in which Fred did his best to show Hermione how much he cared for her and how deeply sorry he was to have hurt her. It was good sex, fulfilling, and for the two of them, healing in its way. The best part for both of them was when they rested in between sessions, with Hermione held securely in Fred's arms, where she belonged.

-o0o-

Hermione finally stirred, and excused herself to the loo. Fred sat up, propping his pillow against the headboard, and summoning the tea tray to him. The tea was still hot, since the teapot was charmed to stay warm, so he poured himself a cup, and noticed the package was still unopened. When Hermione returned, he offered her another cup, which she accepted.

"I got that for you. Do you want to open it?" he asked, indicating the package. Hermione shrugged. She didn't much like the idea that she could be bought off with a bauble, and it was the right size for a bracelet or necklace, but she could address it later. Clearly, Fred was trying hard to make things up to her, so she handed him her mug and carefully began removing the silver paper.

It was not a jewelry box after all. Instead it was a shrunken box, which expanded as she opened it. Inside was a portable secretary, complete with creamy, good-quality parchment in a number of sizes, envelopes embossed with her initial, a variety of colors of ink, blotting materials and a set of lovely eagle feather quills, one of which was labeled an ever-filled quill, charmed never to run out of ink. This was no bauble, this was exceptionally thoughtful gift, designed to please her.

"Oh, Fred. This is so unnecessary, but so lovely. Thank you," she said.

"No, don't thank me. I needed to do something to show you that you do matter to me. All of that can be repackaged and it will shrink down to that size again, so you can transport it fairly easily. I've been an enormous prat, I know. And I'm not such a prat that I think a gift and some flowers is enough to make it up, but I hope it's a start."

"You're forgiven, Fred. Just . . . try not to do it anymore," she said, finally able to smile at him. "Can I have my tea back?" He smiled at her, and handed her the mug.

"Will you stay for dinner? I bought something special to cook," he said.

"Of course I will. I'll stay the night too, if you'll have me," she said, a little shyly. "If George won't be bothered."

"He's staying at Angelina's tonight, so no worries."

"Oh!" Hermione yelped. "I was supposed to have helped him with animal transfiguration sweets this afternoon, after a nap. Oh, what must he think!"

Fred started chuckling. "I wouldn't be too concerned, Hermione. I don't think he was expecting you to come back down after he saw me come back. It wouldn't be the first time one of us has taken care of things after a fight."

Hermione closed her eyes briefly, a faint flush on her cheeks. "Right. Of course. I know you and George are close, but I think it will take me awhile to get used to the idea of my sex life being an open topic of discussion."

Fred gave her a cheeky grin and said in a teasing voice, "Oh, Hermione, really. Your love life has long been a topic amongst males of a certain age. It's only that you've found out about it now."

She groaned, but in truth, her heart was much lighter. Still, she wasn't about to let that comment stand, so grabbed her pillow and smacked Fred with it, starting a pillow fight of truly epic proportions, that left them breathless and laughing for the first time since before the wards round the Burrow were breached.

-o0o-

The more time that passed, the easier things got. Hermione allowed Fred to cook her dinner and draw her a bath, and even let him retrieve fresh clothing from the Burrow while she soaked. He was trying, and she allowed it. There was still a niggling fear in the back of her mind that she would not be able to crack whatever barrier he set up. Indeed, that she might never notice the barrier. But, she reasoned with herself, that would be true with anyone. She had no choice but to trust him. They would be bound either way.

Fred knocked on the bathroom door and then stepped in. "I'm back, just wanted to let you know. Mum said it's about time you stopped moping about, and sent scones for breakfast under a preservation charm. I, ah, did something which you may not like. But I sort of thought it wouldn't hurt." He rubbed the back of his neck.

Hermione swam up to the steps and raised an eyebrow. "What was that?"

"I packed up all your clothes from the Burrow, except what was in my old room. You've been saying you were going to do it, but I sort of thought there was no reason not to take care of it while I was there."

Hermione shook her head in amusement. "Oh, Fred, for Merlin's sake. It's fine. I probably would rather have done it myself to be sure they were in order, but it's fine. I'm sure there is something in there for me to wear."

"Sure. Also, Percy sent a note yesterday asking if we had worked out the details of the ceremony. I didn't respond, but we really ought to do."

"That's fine. We can go over it as soon as I'm done in the bath. Unless you'd like to join me?" Hermione asked the question a little hesitantly.

"Not tired of me yet?" Fred asked jokingly, but Hermione saw the fear in his eyes, which was oddly comforting. She gave him a big smile.

"No, not yet. Come along now. It's really lovely. And you know, we always have such a nice time in here."

Fred did not require a second invitation; he joined Hermione for a swim. It was soothing, and fun, though chaste. They were relaxing around each other again, enjoying each others company. The remainder of the evening passed quietly and domestically. Fred watched as Hermione arranged her clothes and few personal effects in what could now be called their bedroom, helping to expand drawers and cupboards as needed. It wasn't long before Hermione had likewise organized his clothes as well, though he teased her about it. They talked quietly about the changes Hermione was proposing to the flat, and then turned in to bed early. Fred wrapped himself around Hermione, and things felt right between them again. Not to suggest they were magically fixed, but rather that George had been correct; this was a bump in the road they had to deal with.

-o0o-

The next morning, Fred woke early. Intending to start breakfast, he slipped out of the bedroom and down the hall. The kettle was on and near to whistling when he heard the floo activate. He turned, expecting George, apology for his recent behavior already on his lips.

It was not George. It was Ron.

He looked pale, his freckles standing out against his skin, which was drawn. There were circles under his eyes. Ron looked tired, but resolute. He stood with his hands in his pockets.

"Can I sit down?" he finally asked. Fred studied him for a moment, then shrugged.

"If you like. What're you doing here?" His voice was neutral. Not as unfriendly as he felt, but not welcoming either. He crossed his arms and leaned back against the counter, and Ron sat down, fiddling with his jeans, not really saying anything. The kettle began to sing, and Fred quickly silenced it, and began preparing tea. Things were quiet as Fred worked, warming the pot with the steaming water, adding the loose leaves, and finally the water, letting the tea steep for the correct amount of time. Fred poured out a mug, added milk and sugar and finally turned his attention to Ron. He hesitated, then grudgingly carried two mugs to the lounge, handing one to Ron. "You know where the milk and sugar are if you want them."

"Thanks, this is fine," Ron said quietly.

"You haven't answered my question," Fred said bluntly.

"I heard that you and Hermione had a fight." Fred narrowed his eyes, and Ron held up a hand. "I'm not here for that. To try and threaten you or set you straight or whatnot." He took a gulp of his tea. "It's like this. I can see how much you love her. And she loves you. It pours off of her, like. She lights up round you. Harry pointed it out to me. Thing is, I never brought that out of her. And I never felt about her like I do about Daph."

"What do you mean?" Fred asked, his voice marginally more warm.

"Well, it was like we were always supposed to be together, so I took it for granted that we would be. Sort of skipped over actually being in a relationship, like. I was a giant prat to her, nothing what she deserved. But I've been realizing it's because I was never really that interested in her. Not for herself. It's different with Daphne. She's gentle and encouraging and bloody gorgeous, and we like the same sorts of things."

"She's a better complement to you," Fred said carefully.

"Yeah. That's what Harry said too. I guess, I'm really starting to believe it."

"That's really lovely and all, Ron, but it still doesn't answer my question," Fred said. "It's bloody early for a touching reunion scene."

"Right. Well, I just wanted to catch you before the shop opened and I have to be at the pitch early today. I heard you and Hermione had a fight. For awhile, I was pretty upset. I was going to come over and hex you or something. But then I started walking around the Burrow, yeah? Stayed up almost all night thinking. And trying to figure out what I was really angry about."

"Which is what, Ron?" There was no mistaking the impatience in his voice.

"I was angry because I don't want you to screw up a good thing like I did. You deserve to be happy, and I want her to be happy. So, I guess, really, I just came over to say that whatever it was about, you should make it up to her or forgive her or whatever. That's all."

Fred looked at his baby brother and shook his head in amused disbelief. "Right. Well, that's already taken care of, yeah? So, no need to worry." He took a healthy swallow of his own tea, and the brothers regarded each other for a moment. "I guess we're growing up, then, aren't we?"

"Guess we've had to," Ron shrugged.

"I'm not perfect, Ron. I will make her mad, I'll upset her, she'll get frustrated because I work too much or something. And I know it would make her really happy if she could come and whinge to you about it. She misses you."

"Yeah, well, we've been friends since we were eleven. We'll figure it out."

"And we've been brothers for longer. Come round the shop. I'll let you have anything you want, free of charge."

Ron narrowed his eyes. "Why'd you do that?"

Fred grinned wickedly, and Ron gulped. "Just to say I'm sorry for turning your teddy bear into a spider, yeah?"

"Well, maybe I'll talk Daphne into bringing Iris out when she's home for the holidays. I think she'd like a pygmy puff. Daphne says she goes on and on about her roommate's puff."

"So things are going well then? Have you chosen a date yet?"

Ron looked a bit more relaxed than he had in awhile. "Daph's talking about February, but that's a bit difficult to work out since the season is underway again. We'll see. May take a page from your book and do it on a weekday. Might make it easier. Won't be at the Burrow though, her parents want a big fancy thing in their ballroom."

"How're they then?"

"Good. They're nice enough to me. Her mum is a bit formal, but her dad's actually a pretty decent bloke. He's given money to help research lycanthropy treatments beyond Wolfsbane. He gets invested in a few causes like that. Actually, I think he and Hermione would get on pretty well," Ron mused, a smile ghosting across his face. He set his mug down.

"So you and Hermione are all right again?" he asked seriously.

"Yeah. She's still asleep. I was just getting breakfast ready. Mum sent over scones last night. I have to go down early today. We sort of took off yesterday afternoon, and I promised George I'd catch us up on Daydream Charms and animal-transfiguring sweets. There's usually a run on them for Halloween," Fred said.

"Right. Well, I should get on to the pitch and start warming up," Ron said.

"Er, how's that going? I heard you're giving Smythe-Jones a run for his galleons."

Ron grinned suddenly. "It's brilliant, Fred. I think I'll be starting by December. Smythe-Jones isn't very good, really. I'm better, but they have to give him a run. I know I've always been crazy about the Canons, but we're really a lot better. Hastings and Longview have really started to gel with McKnight, and they're running a lot more efficiently. The beaters aren't great, you and George were better in school, honestly. But we can score some now, anyway. Weller's nowhere near as good as Harry, but then, who is? I don't think we'll be at the bottom this year, anyway."

"We'll come see you in a match after the wedding then, yeah?" Fred said as Ron stood up.

"I'd like that," Ron said.

"And maybe you and Daphne can come over for dinner with us and George and Angelina soon," Fred offered. He stuck out his hand, and Ron shook it. They nodded at each other, knowing there a number of things they'd left unsaid, and knowing they wouldn't need to say them now.

-o0o-

_A/N: Aren't fights the worst? I always hate that bit of time when my husband and I are carefully stepping around each other, and it's not back to normal yet, and things just feel off (not that we fight much at all, perhaps that's why I feel it so acutely!). I do apologize for the delay; I'd intended to post Friday, but was knocked flat on my back by a violent bout of the flu, starting rather suddenly afternoon at work with chills and extreme temperature reactions. I'm coming out the other side now, and may even be ready to go back to work. Unfortunately, it meant losing a whole weekend of writing and I have houseguests coming in and my house is a disaster. _

_Ah, well. I am working on Chapter 23 now, and I feel like some progress is happening. Plot is probably the thing I struggle with most - if for no other reason than the fact I enjoy the characters and don't want the time I spend with them to end! Nevertheless, if I ever want to get back to some of my other WIP, this little darling needs to get going. I hope you enjoy this chapter. If all goes well, the next update will be in about two weeks again. Cheers, all._


	17. Chapter 17

_Standard Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling, as should be obvious by the fact I write 'M' rated stories. So I don't technically own this stuff, and write it for the sheer pleasure of exercising my creative side._

-o0o-

_Chapter 17_

-o0o-

It was easy, after that, to fall back into the rhythm they'd established previously. There were moments each was more guarded, but neither Fred nor Hermione wished to be on edge or suspicious or repentant or hurt, and the desire for normalcy was strong enough to help create it. George seemed relieved, though he watched them carefully for the first couple of days after they made up. Hermione felt the subtle shift that Sunday morning, when Fred smiled widely at her and winked when George was relating the story of their interaction with their vegetative potions ingredient supplier. The ease that had escaped him and rattled him so badly after Harry and Ginny's wedding had returned, and she felt relieved.

This particular Sunday, ten days before the wedding, was Fred's turn to take the shop. Lee was coming in over the afternoon as well, and Verity had been given the day off. Hermione hadn't known Lee terribly well at Hogwarts, but found him to be a terrific partner in the workroom, a sly joke always at the ready, dark eyes sparkling with mirth. It was easy to see why he and Fred and George had become best mates; they fit hand in glove, and he was easily as talented as they. He didn't do much with brewing or creation, leaving that to Hermione, but was genius when it came to packaging and distribution. Lee entertained her with less well-known stories about their Hogwarts years while Fred or George – whoever happened to be within earshot – tried to distract either of them by increasingly ridiculous tactics.

For the moment though, it was just Fred and Hermione in the workroom. She had spent the night with him, and was lingering, not particularly wanting to go back to the Burrow. With things a bit more settled over the past few days, she found herself lingering more and more. Fred had come downstairs after their early breakfast, cup of tea in hand, to finish another batch of transfiguration sweets, as he'd promised George to do. Hermione had wandered downstairs sometime later, having volunteered to wash the dishes, but was idle, sitting on the worktop near Fred, watching him work, one leg swinging back and forth, seemingly without her notice.

"Like what you see, love? Or are you busy working some brilliant new arithmantic problem that will change everything we know about magic?" Fred asked teasingly, as he completed the last batch of Lion Lollies, and set them aside for Lee to package.

Hermione snorted. "Hmph. No, I was just reflecting that you should give my ring to George to give to Percy. He has to prepare them for the ceremony, you know. Did you send him the details that we discussed yesterday?"

"Yes, of course. I did that while you were upstairs studying. You should probably get going soon," he commented.

"Trying to get rid of me?" she asked, her voice teasing, her eyes vulnerable.

"Yes, of course. Lee and I have a torrid secret affair to be getting on with," Fred said in a totally serious voice, making Hermione laugh. Fred cleaned the cauldron he'd been using with a flick of his wand and put it back in the line, and then came to stand before Hermione, resting between her knees, looping his arms loosely around her. "I do not want to get rid of you, Hermione. Not in the least." She searched his eyes, saw the sincerity in them, and scooted closer to the edge of the table so that she could wrap her arms tightly around him, and snuggle into his chest.

"I like to know that, Fred," she said softly.

"I'm sorry I was such an arse," he said, his voice low and heavy. "That I've given you reason to doubt me."

Hermione pulled away for a moment, to take his hands in her face. "None of that, now. You were hurting. It's fine. We are fine. And you are right, I should go. I promised your mum I'd help with lunch. I've got a few minutes yet, though, if I apparate. I suppose I could go upstairs and say a lingering goodbye to George," she said musingly.

Fred growled playfully, pulling her to him, pressing himself into her. "You will do no such thing. You'll see him later on. Right now, I've got something requiring your attention." The look he gave her was smoldering, but it was lost on Hermione, who had started laughing.

"Something requiring my attention? Oh, Fred, that was a terrible, _terrible_ line. Has that ever worked for you?" Fred shook his head, smiling at her, relieved that the tension he'd briefly alluded to was gone.

"You'd be surprised, Hermione," he said. Before she could respond, Fred leaned in and kissed her lips. His kiss accomplished what his words couldn't, and they were deeply involved with each other. It was a lusty kiss, full of promise, rather than simple affection. Hermione broke free of the kiss with a small gasp as Fred's hands boldly traveled her body. Fred took advantage to grab the nearest wand – he thought it was Hermione's – and cast a locking charm around the workroom, and then a succession of _divesto_ charms that removed first Hermione's clothes, and then his, leaving them neatly folded across the room. She looked at him with a mixture of amusement, exasperation, and desire. He nuzzled and then licked at the sensitive spot just below her ear before whispering lowly.

"No silencing charm, love. And George is likely to try making his way down any moment. We'll have to be quick."

"The worktable? Really? Isn't this a really bad cliché?" she said, biting her lip to hold back a moan of pleasure, as Fred began tracing her nipple with his tongue. His fingers were likewise teasing her, and she could feel his hardness because of their proximity. She reached between them and lightly stroked the length of him. They had never been in such a frantic rush, and certainly not in a location other than the bedroom, not like this.

"Of course. That's not going to make it any less hot, Mione," he whispered. "Do you think you are ready for me?"

Had Hermione ever given it thought, she would have expected to be so nervous about someone walking in or so embarrassed that she wouldn't be able to enjoy the experience. Instead, her attention was focused solely on the man before her and the sensations he was producing in her and how badly she wanted him to be inside her. She nodded, and Fred angled her slightly, and she wrapped her legs around him for balance, and he pushed hard into her, both of them groaning. Conscious of the fact that George was likely to discover his locking charm and break through it, Fred set a fast, almost brutal pace, but Hermione met every advance eagerly, hardly noticing that she was slammed into the worktable with his harder thrusts. It was over quickly, but left both of them breathing heavily.

"Wow," Hermione finally said, as Fred withdrew from her body, and helped her to her feet. "It's probably good that we don't spend a lot of time here alone."

"On the contrary, I think we should spend more time in here alone. Much, much more time." Fred handed Hermione her wand and found his own and cast cleansing charms over both of them, and Hermione scrambled to get dressed quickly, and Fred did the same. When they were both dressed, Fred pulled Hermione into his arms and kissed her gently, lovingly. They heard the door rattle and knew that George was on his way down, but when Hermione would have pulled away, Fred tightened his grip on her, and George found them that way, in a sweet embrace.

He leaned lazily against the worktable, arms crossed, and cleared his throat loudly. "Finish up the sweets, then, Forge?"

Fred finally let go of Hermione, whose cheeks were flushed, and nodded at his brother. "Yes. May need another batch or two this week, as they go, but the storeroom is caught up. We're actually getting close to full stock again, thanks to Mione here."

"I'm sure you've shown her adequate appreciation," George said dryly.

Hermione squeezed Fred's hand and stepped on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "Well, it's been a nice morning. I'll miss you at dinner today, but I suppose I'll see you tomorrow." Fred kissed her forehead and smiled at her. "I will see you later, George. Don't forget about the rings, Fred." And with a pop she was gone.

"You know brother, I always knew how annoying you found it when Angie and I forgot the charms. But we never had sex in the workroom. The _workroom_. You really know how to show a bird a good time. Only Hermione is likely to get turned on by cauldrons and potions ingredients. Next time, try the table that's bolted into the wall so it makes less noise." George raised an eyebrow at his brother, who looked far more smug than guilty.

"Payback, brother, is a right bitch, innit?" Fred smirked. "Well, I'm going to go open up then. Why don't you check over the stockroom and see what we're low on? Hard to believe we're nearly caught up again. The chance to get ahead or work on development is a nice change."

George nodded, summoning a standard dictation quill and parchment, even as Fred walked away and into the shop. Fred was humming to himself, pleased with the start to the day, until he stepped onto the floor of the shop.

He could tell immediately that something was wrong. The workroom had been more securely warded to make it safer after the attempt to breach the wards, and crossing the threshold between the rooms was a definite change in atmosphere. There was something that felt simply off about the shop. A flash of fear welled up in him, and his wand was tightly gripped in his hand in seconds.

Fred slowed his breathing, concentrating first on calming himself, so he could hear above the fast beating of his heart, and then listened carefully. All was still. Not that he'd expected to find anyone hidden in the shop, not without the wards coming down first. And there were no signs of the wards being tampered with, none of Bill's alarms or warnings had sounded. But . . . Fred warred with himself. If there was danger, the last thing he wanted to do was bring his brother into it. Another set of eyes though, that was simply a wise idea.

Fred closed his eyes, pursed his lips, and hissed, "Georgie. Need you. Look sharp." In moments, his twin was at his side, wand drawn. "You feel it?" George nodded.

"It feels like a humming. Almost like it did when the Death Eaters camped out to watch." He was cocking his head so that his good ear was able to hear better.

"Yes. Right. I don't think anyone is here," Fred whispered.

"Make sure certain," George replied tersely. "_Hominum Revelio!_" The light flashed through but there was nobody there save for the two of them.

The two of them looked at each other, and an entire conversation poured between them. In a synchronicity that most people would find eerie, they split off from each other and quietly prowled through the shop, stopping every few meters to cast detection spells. It was something Tonks had taught them, the ways an Auror swept a potential scene or hideout to make certain they did not trigger any dark jinxes or hexes inadvertently. There were a number of ways clever individuals could set up traps and hurt people after them, as the twins well knew from their work and their time as active members of the Order.

It was near the front, and it was Fred who found it. An innocent looking box of daydream charms was on the floor near the door, looking as if it had fallen from the shelf. Fred or George would have been likely to either to nudge it with their foot when lowering the wards or to have picked it up while straightening to replace the item. Doing so would have been potentially fatal.

Fred was not an auror or an expert in dark artifacts, but the few detection spells he knew how to cast showed a number of curses that would have been transferred to whomever touched the object. He called George over softly, and George worked his way over, checking that there was no other surprise awaiting them. They stared down at the object, looking for all the world as any other of their products.

"We've got to call King," George finally said. "This is a big problem."

-o0o-

Not wanting to worry anyone, the twins agreed to wait to do anything else until Kingsley arrived. They were quiet, neither wanting to leave the box by itself, nor wanting to stay too close. Through the display windows, they could see the Alley coming open for business, and a few early customers peering into the darkened store.

"How did it get there?" Fred finally asked. "Before we closed?"

"That's the questions, innit? Verity normally straightens before she leaves, and would likely have noticed this. But how could someone have gotten through the wards to set it without our noticing? It seems to me it had to be before."

"But when? How long was it there? What if one of our customers had touched that?" Fred's voice was hollow.

George went pale. "I hadn't thought of that. It's probably directed at us, though, right?"

"That doesn't really make it better though, does it?"

"Hermione, Lee or Verity could have touched that as well."

Fred ran his hand through his hair. "Merlin's bollocks, George. How did this happen?"

"I don't know, Freddy. But we have to decide about the secret keeper. The sooner, the better. I don't think either of us are comfortable with the current situation. I'm going to ask Bill to come by Angie's flat and start making measurements."

"Is there a good reason one of us shouldn't be the keeper?" Fred asked, forehead creased.

"Can't be me, because I'm casting it. Needs to be you or Hermione anyway, since you lot are living here. I don't see any good reason it should be one of you over the other. But you both need to be present so we can test the efficacy of the charm immediately."

"If we keep the shop closed, can you do it today?"

George frowned and sighed. "Yeah. I can do it today. I need an hour or two to prepare. But it can be done today."

They were interrupted by the sound of movement in the workroom. Their wands were out, but it was only Kingsley Shacklebolt, who raised his hands slowly.

Fred spoke sharply, "When we ran Potterwatch, what was the plan B if we were discovered?"

Kingsley smiled, white teeth gleaming against his dark skin. "Run like hell and cover your arse."

Their wands lowered. "Sorry, King, we're a bit jumpy. Know we should have called the Aurors, but thought you'd want to know. This is the sort of thing we were talking about," George said.

"I came through your floo connection. Are there many people who have access?" Kingsley asked.

Fred frowned. "Not really, we have it protected and have to key visitors in to pass through."

"Show me what you've found then," Kingsley said with a frown. They did, explaining the precautions they'd taken, what alerted them, and they came to the box, and Kingsley performed a complex spell and then gave a low whistle. "Gentlemen, that is an extremely dangerous little object. There are at least 6 curses, any combination of which would be fatal if they hit you. I'm not even sure how to remove all the curses _in situ_. Is there something I can transfigure into a spell-proof container?"

George trotted back to the workroom and returned with a box, which he tossed to Kingsley. "This bit is one we're practiced with. Get the box ready, we'll get this ready to move. Forge, if you will?"

Fred immediately cast protective charms on the area surrounding the object, then George cast a reversed bubble head charm around the object, effectively trapping any curses that might be tripped by other magical prodding. By casting the charm around it, they were able to move it without risking setting anything off. Once Kingsley had the box prepared, Fred carefully levitated the bubble-wrapped charm, carrying the box, into it.

They all breathed a bit more easily when it was safely contained. George ran his hand through his shaggy hair and exhaled sharply, while Fred simply slid down to sit back on his heels. Even Kingsley seemed a bit rattled.

"Right. I'll take this in and give it to one of the people I trust. She used to work with Tonks, and is discreet and reliable."

"This is a problem, King. We don't know when it got there or how," Fred admitted quietly.

"It wasn't there when the wards were set last night?" King asked, with some alarm on his face.

"Dunno," George replied. "Verity usually straightens up, and I didn't look over before I set the wards. They can be set from anywhere, so after she left, I locked the door with the standard charm and set the wards, then went back upstairs. Never went back near the front again."

"Hermione stayed over last night; we were upstairs cooking dinner when everyone left down here," Fred said. "There were no signs of a ward breach last night. And no one but Bill, George and I know how to set and disable the wards. Not even Hermione and Angelina, though Mione'll have to be taught."

"I think it's safe to assume it happened last night. Bill's wards are strong. Have him look them over, or better yet, hire an independent ward-breaker to test them, but I doubt they find anything."

"King, between us, is it safe for Fred to live here? He and Hermione are to be married in ten days and living here full time," George said in a low voice.

"Oi, brother, I can hear you. I'm not the one what lost an ear, you know," Fred called out. "We're going to cast the Fidelius charm today, it's worth noting."

Kingsley frowned with deep though, arms crossed, as he considered. "It might be nominally safer at the Burrow or Grimmauld Place, but altogether, not enough to require you to leave. More people round the Burrow, Grimmauld Place is less well known. But under the Fidelius, with your wards? It's a wash. However, the Fidelius only hides your location, you know. It doesn't protect you from things like this," he finished, indicating the container holding the cursed box.

"What is to stop someone from planting one of these on our shelves? Or dropping it in front of a customer?" George asked quietly.

Kingsley sighed. "I'm not sure. Other than keen eyes or some really tightened security that doesn't seem practical for a busy shop, I'm not sure what you can do."

"Fuck. FUCK," Fred growled. "This is ridiculous. What're we supposed to do? Set up a troll with a probity probe out front? Go back to mail-orders? Why're they targeting us anyway? What sort of message is this supposed to be?" The frustration and anger were clear.

"Short of Filch trying to get us back, there are any number of things, Freddy, and you know it," George said with a sigh. "It does seem to be getting rather personal now, though, doesn't it?"

"I'll call another Order meeting, we need to discuss this generally," Kingsley said. The twins nodded. "I can't tell you what to do specifically, but I do recommend that you consider hiring more staff to circulate the floor. Surely there is some way to find people you trust?"

"But we're right back where we were before, King. Who's to say Verity isn't under the Imperius, like? People are becoming less vigilant all the time, and we've still no idea who is behind this or what their objective is. Only that it's rather deadly." George grimaced, his arms crossed obstinately over his chest.

"You are a Defense Against the Dark Arts Research Institute, aren't you?" Kingsley said with a raised eyebrow. "Research. Come up with something. I've no doubt you can modify any number of dark detectors if you wish to."

"So long as we're not using Sneakoscopes, mate," Fred said with a sudden flash of mirth. "Tried that once already. Bloody things wouldn't stop going off. Not surprising for a joke and prank shop, then, is it?" George chuckled at the memory, and Kingsley smiled as well at the thought. Fred's voice turned thoughtful again. "I wonder, though, Georgie, if we mightn't be able to fiddle that charm some, though. King's got a point that there are other sorts of dark detection items, there's got to be something we can develop."

"Yeah, all right, we'll get started tonight, yeah? After we cast the Fidelius," George looked resigned.

"Better floo Lee, mate," Fred said. "And get over to the Burrow. Mum will be upset if you're not there."

"You'd best come too, then," George advised. "If Mum hears what happened, she'll be a right mess if you're here alone. I still think you've got work ahead to convince that lot you and Hermione will be safe enough here."

"You lived here until nearly the end of the war, yes?" Kingsley asked.

"Yeah, we moved to Muriel's when Ginny didn't return to Hogwarts. Knew they'd come around then. So we secured the workroom and flat best we could, moved out what products we could and then trashed the store to make it look like they'd already been," Fred agreed.

"Leaving a few surprises behind if they poked about too closely," George added. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"Remember how it was, George. You lived here openly, at the height of danger with lesser wards and known antagonists. With stronger wards, under a Fidelius, and an opponent who doesn't want to come out into the open, I think your position is better, actually."

"I'd agree, King, were it not for the fact that we haven't any idea how that little package came to be where it was. All that's clear is that it was deliberate," George said patiently.

Fred ran a hand over his face, and made a noise of impatience. "We're back in circles now, Georgie. The flat is safe, we're agreed on that, yeah?"

"Yeah, I s'pose," George grunted.

"And the workroom?" Fred asked and George nodded.

"Then living here should be fine. We know the shop is secure from outside threats, and we'll take care to be wary inside. What other choice do we have?"

"I don't know. I just want you to be safe, Forge!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air, looking frustrated.

"I know, Gred. I _know_. But even if we didn't stay here, the shop would be in danger, and we're in the shop everyday. Do you want to close it down?"

George looked defeated. "No. Without an explanation, it'd be about the worst thing we could do, really."

"Right. So. Onwards, then, yeah?" George nodded, and Fred slung an arm around him, as the Minister for Magic shook his head with unconcealed amusement.

-o0o-

Hermione perched nervously on the edge of the sofa, watching George as he completed his preparations to cast the Fidelius Charm. Fred was next to her, likewise watching his twin, a worried expression appearing out of place on his usually cheerful face.

She had been shocked when they both turned up to dinner at the Burrow, and had known instantly from their distracted demeanor that something had happened that morning. Neither spoke of it until the end of the meal, when they were all told at once about the disaster that had been averted.

As predicted, Molly Weasley absolutely forbade them to return to the flat, encouraging both twins and Hermione to stay at the Burrow. Bill was the one who intervened for them, assuring her that they were as safe as they possibly could be, once the Fidelius had been cast. Nevertheless, the lingering look he gave to the twins was significant. Arthur's jaw was set, and he said he wanted a formal investigation done with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and as the head of the department, he would make that happen. Harry quietly pulled Hermione aside as the family cleaned up the meal and told her that they were always welcome to stay at Grimmauld Place, and to please consider it. She hugged him, but demurred.

They left relatively quickly after dessert. No one was much in the mood for the usual rowdy activities the family reveled in, and the sooner they cast the charm, the safer everyone would feel. So the twins and their respective brides to be returned to the flat. Angelina did not stay long, because the team was traveling that evening, which left just the three of them.

George was nervous. He'd read everything about the charm he could, and was fairly confident he could cast it correctly, but there were nuances in the charm that concerned him. Choosing the right secret-keeper was important, but likewise, the words that revealed the secret were important as well. They couldn't be something that might be uttered accidentally, and the wording also impacted the scope of the secret.

As it would primarily relate to Hermione and Fred, he suggested that they be referenced, rather than he and Fred. After some discussion, it was settled. The secret revelation would be _"There is a flat located above the shop at 93 Diagon Alley where Fred and Hermione live."_ It should hide the existence of the flat, the knowledge of the occupants of the flat and where Fred and Hermione's home was located. Fred fervently hoped it was thorough enough.

More discussion centered around who would be the secret keeper, Fred or Hermione. In the end, George drew the name out of a hat, which is how Hermione came to be chosen, to Fred's dismay. It wasn't that he didn't trust her, but he felt it placed her in unnecessary danger, and after the recent events, he was afraid. Still, after recent events, he had no choice but to let it happen. So they were here, watching George, anxious, tense.

After a deep breath, George nodded to Hermione, who stood up. "Right then. Shall we? Just remember, you need to continue thinking about the phrasing. Over and over, like you were doing lines." He instructed Hermione to stand two feet before him, and to hold her wand in a particular way. Then, as Fred watched, his jaw clenched, George closed his eyes and began speaking the incantation in a low voice, a long string of words, sounding almost like a Gregorian chant, Hermione thought absurdly. George moved his wand in precise, yet sweeping motions, and Hermione could see traces of energy distorting the area around her and around Fred, a shimmering of the air as on a hot day. George began to circle her, constantly murmuring the incantations, keeping his wandwork sharp and definitive, and Hermione felt a wave of confusion wash over her like a tangible force, and saw through the shimmering a frown marring Fred's brow, and then a silvery light, similar to a thought in a penseive circled round her head, like a coronet, and disappeared into her.

George fell silent, breathing heavily. Fred quickly moved to him, and helped him sit down; George looked completely wiped out. Hermione blinked, and watched them, before shaking her head to clear it.

"Fred?" she spoke quietly.

"Yes?" he asked, sounded a bit confused.

"Where are we?" George, despite his fatigue, looked up, alert.

Fred seemed startled by her question, and looked around him, his frown deepening. "I. . . I don't know. It's weird. It seems familiar here, but I can't remember. George?"

"Sort of the same. This chair is sort of comfortable though. But honestly, I'm knackered. I'd really like to get to bed." Suddenly, George's face was mirroring his twin's. "Er, Fred? Where is bed?"

"I dunno," Fred said slowly.

Hermione couldn't help the smile that snuck onto her face. She spoke the words they'd decided on, "There is a flat located above the shop at 93 Diagon Alley where Fred and Hermione live."

The frowns on both of their faces smoothed out, and suddenly, they gave each other identical pleased grins, saying in unison, "Wicked."

"Seems like it's worked then?" Hermione asked, flopping onto the couch.

"Seems so. I really hadn't any idea where we were, in our own lounge. Weird. I guess that means we ought to contact the family and let everyone know who needs to know then?"

George yawned widely then, his jaw nearly cracking. "You lot can go ahead, if you like. I'm done in."

Fred hesitated. "Is it a good idea to leave you here alone?"

"Forge, honestly, didn't you spend half the morning telling me how safe it would be? Go. I'll see you both later. Wake me for dinner." George heaved himself up from the chair and drug himself down to his room.

"Coming with me?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, but first, you need to write Angelina, and tell her, or she'll be furious with George. He's too tired to remember."

"Aren't you sweet to think of it?" Hermione asked with a smile.

"Yeah, well, I owe him," Fred said with a shrug. Hermione pulled out the box Fred had given her and extracted parchment and quill and quickly wrote to Angelina, and then cast a charm over it to make it disintegrate shortly after it was read. She handed it to Fred, who pocketed it, and then they apparated to the Burrow. Hermione busied herself telling everyone the secret now housed in her soul, and Fred borrowed his parent's owl to send the note to Angelina. There was general relief that the charm had worked, but there was a tension in the air that no amount of jokes or talking around could erase.

Arthur was the one to broach the subject with Fred and Hermione, once the family were a bit more settled. Molly bustled in and out of the lounge, fetching tea, and offering biscuits, while they made themselves comfortable on the sofa, and Arthur settled into his customary chair.

"We're a bit concerned about the wedding, and security," he said when they were finally all seated.

"Not surprising, Dad. But we're not changing the date at this point," Fred said bluntly.

"Of course not!" Molly exclaimed. "But we were thinking that other measures might be necessary."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "What sort of measures?"

Arthur leaned forward. "I spoke with Kingsley this afternoon while you were gone. He suggests a contingent of MLE wizards patrolling and sending all the confirmed guests a portkey that will drop them near the boundaries. Then they can be searched before they enter the grounds, and then your brothers can escort them to their seats."

Fred frowned. "Seems a bit much, don't you think? For a smallish wedding?"

Hermione was biting her lip. "I don't know, Fred. With everything that's happened? That box was serious. You or George, or Verity, or Lee, or me or Angelina might have been killed by that. And those dead weasels were meant to be a warning. I don't fancy our wedding resulting in permanent injury or worse to someone because a lunatic has some sort of grudge."

"I know, I know. I hate this though," Fred said with some vehemence.

"None of us like this. Especially now, when we ought to be safe from the threat of dark wizards. It's too great a chance to take though," Arthur said firmly.

Fred ran a hand through his hair in a gesture of impatience. "Fine, if it's got to be this way. We need to figure out what is happening and who is behind it though, because I have no desire to close down the shop again and I refuse to hide at Muriel's."

"No one is suggesting you go that far, dear," Molly said mildly. "Only that we be sensible to the danger that is clearly out there."

"Who will create the Portkeys?" Hermione asked, ever practical.

"People we trust in the Ministry," Arthur replied. "We want it kept quiet and this is the most efficient means of doing it. Besides, I rather expect you lot to be pretty busy, between Halloween at the store and your Order assignments."

"Right. If you think it's best, that's what we'll do." Fred ran a hand through his hair. "I hate this. I want to know why we're being targeted."

"We all do, son. But since we don't know, just . . . be careful, yeah? Bill had an idea or two about your shop security, if you're interested." Arthur looked tired, old even. Fred swallowed convulsively around the lump that had formed in his throat and tried to smile. He felt Hermione's hand on his knee, offering silent comfort. After everything that had occurred that day, he was willing to take anything she would offer him.

He laced his fingers through hers, and sitting back, began to discuss the proposed plans in earnest with his father, grateful to have his family all still with him, grateful to be inexplicably still with them.

-o0o-

_A/N: I know, I know. Promises, promises. But I got the flu and missed work, and then had to make that up, and then our budget reduction proposals were due, and now our annual reports, and at some point in there was an organizational reshuffle and I'm busy with fundraising to support my March for Babies walk in my deceased son's honor. So very busy and tired. Bah. This story just goes in fits and spurts, unfortunately for you poor readers. I know how disappointing it is to get invested in a fic and have to go ages between updates, so I am very sorry. I hope this soothes a bit, and promise to take up immediately on the next chapter as soon as Afterwards 15 is complete (I'm already half through, so . . .). Hope everyone is well. Cheers!_


	18. Chapter 18

_Disclaimer: They aren't mine, but if I promise to take really good care of them, can they come stay with me for awhile, please?_

-o0o-

_Chapter 18_

-o0o-

Hermione set down her wand and flexed her hand for a moment, and then rolled her shoulders. Even after doing at least two batches a week since shopping for her wedding clothes, she still got terribly tense when she did a lot of Skiving Snack-boxes. Not that she'd botched a single one, but it was complex magic and she didn't want to be a liability. This group of Puking Pastilles was perfect, or so she assumed – she was not about to test the theory herself.

She left them in place for Lee to package up later and turned to put away the cauldron. The stock room had been caught up to date, to everyone's pleasure, even after the dent caused by the run on Halloween products. Hermione felt a bit at a loss. Now that things were slowing down, George had immersed himself in his projects, and Fred had spent a fair amount of time on the sales floor so that they could keep an eye on things. Bill was tinkering with a variation of an ancient tomb protection, a sort of archway, that could be set-up directly inside the store, which was a relief to Fred and George, provided it worked.

George looked up from his perch before a variety of tubes that looked rather like deflated balloons, and grinned at her, still refusing to pay any heed to the fact that his hair was bright blue instead of the normal ginger tones. "Well done, Granger! I simply adore that we've managed to snag that amazing brain and power of yours all for our nefarious schemes."

Hermione's lips quirked, but she rolled her eyes on the same. "Best start thinking up a new name, Georgie, as you won't be able to call me Granger much longer. I've always been partial to Hermione, myself."

George laughed as Hermione winked. "So I will. You could just keep Granger though, make it easier for everyone, since there are going to be six or seven Mrs. Weasleys about."

"I suppose I could, but I think Fred would rather I didn't. What about Angelina?"

"Oh, she's definitely staying Johnson, least while she's still playing. Easier, particularly with Ron playing."

Hermione just nodded. "Well, fearless leader and soon to be brother in law, is there anything

else you'd like done, or am I free to go fix lunch?" She leaned against the worktable expectantly.

"No, I don't think so. Thanks, ducks. Are you going to get Fred for lunch then? I'm at as good a stopping point as I think I'll hit, if that matters at all," he said genially.

"Yes, I think so. You want me to make you something as well?" Hermione asked, already making her way to the shop floor.

"You are a gem, Hermione! Tell Freddy I'll be out in a mo," George called, which she acknowledged with a wave.

Fred was behind the till, leaning casually against the counter; only someone who knew him could see the wariness and tension hidden within that relaxed pose. A soft smile crossed his face as Hermione approached him. "Hello, lovely. Time for lunch?"

"Yes, nearly so. I finished the snack-boxes, and thought I'd see if you were ready. George said he'll be out in a moment." Fred nodded, his eyes roaming over the store, alert and watchful as they had been since the incident days before. "Fred?" she said softly, calling his attention back to her.

"Yes?"

"Why on earth was George's hair blue today? I asked him earlier, but he refused to say."

"Yes, I expect he did, but that's fine by me," Fred chuckled, "It's because I won the bet."

"Bet, Fred?" Hermione said, an eyebrow raised. "What was the bet, precisely?"

"I had been planning to surprise you with a bit of a get-away after the wedding, sort of a short honeymoon. George offered to help ferret out, if you'll pardon the Malfoy reference, what your preferences might be. I asked how he intended to do it, and told him you'd see through him. He said not, and so we made a bet. Which he lost spectacularly, as you'll recall," Fred looked terribly smug.

"You made a bet about me?" Hermione asked, trying to sound reproachful, but unable to conceal her smile quickly enough.

"Course. That's a habit that will never die, Hermione. George has to test the next round of products." Fred smirked at his brother who had appeared at Hermione's shoulder. "Very smooth, brother. That shade of blue is absolutely shocking. It's a new product you can slip in your mate's tea or pumpkin juice, just to mess them about really. It's supposed to wear off in a few minutes, but it looks like I've got the formula too strong still." To George's annoyance, Fred ruffled his still-blue hair affectionately.

"Fred, this will wear off before the wedding, correct?" Hermione asked, a tone in her voice indicating it had _better_ wear off.

"Course it will; it'll be gone by the end of the day," George said with a rueful smile. "And if for some reason it's not, I can change it back." George shrugged modestly before shooing the pair off to the flat to eat.

-o0o-

Hermione and Fred sat at the table, eating pasties that she had made the night before, setting one aside for George to eat later. They were quiet, thoughtful even.

"Are you nervous?" Fred finally asked.

"What, about the wedding?" Hermione returned.

"Yeah. It is only four days away," Fred said, his voice a shade too casual.

Hermione shrugged. "I suppose a bit. But, really, it's just a wedding."

"Aren't brides supposed to be terribly anxious or something?" Fred asked, curious.

"Maybe? But what is there to be nervous about? Bill seems to be taking security personally, so I'm not too concerned. Your mum has taken care of everything else. I've no doubt you and George have managed to find some way to prank me or the guests." She sniffed to show her resignation and displeasure.

"You aren't nervous about the fact we'll be married at the end of the night? It's rather a big deal, Hermione," he stated.

Her eyes widened a bit and she studied him. "No, not at all. Are you?"

"A bit," he admitted. "Not that I don't want to marry you. Not that it would matter if I didn't. But I told you before, I'm looking forward to it. That hasn't changed," he said softly.

"Me too," she said, reaching out to squeeze his hand. They looked each other in the eye for a long moment, before Fred lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers lightly. His eyes locked with hers, he turned her hand and kissed her wrist as well.

"I love you, Hermione," he said, his voice low.

"I love you, Fred," she replied. There was a stinging pressure building at her eyes, but she couldn't have said why, given the warmth and rush of affection that spread through her. The intensity of the moment was nearly overwhelming, so she cleared her throat and said. "And I will miss you."

Fred returned to his pasty, smirking a bit. "Ah yes. Your Muggle traditions of the groom not seeing the bride. Is it really necessary not to see you for three whole days, though?"

"Your mum still has a long list of things that need to be done, and it is for our wedding. And it will be nice to spend some time with Ginny. I've not seen her since her wedding, really, with all the fuss and their schedules. Besides, they really wanted to throw a hen night."

Fred suddenly shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Er, about that. I've gotten the idea that George has some sort of stag night planned, and I don't quite know. . ."

Hermione chuckled. "George has very wisely already run his plans by me. You won't be doing anything you need to worry about."

Fred looked relieved, though he tried to hide it. "Yes, good. Right. Hermione?"

"Yes, darling?" she asked, an eyebrow raised at his questioning tone.

"Since this is nearly the end of our single lives, don't you think we ought to have a proper farewell shag?" His serious voice was belied not only by his words, but the lascivious leer that followed them.

Hermione only rolled her eyes and tried not to laugh.

-o0o-

Tuesday afternoon, Molly insisted that Hermione go pamper herself, or at the very least, stay out of the way. The house had been practically stripped down and cleaned, the orchard was neat and tidy with the alter already in place, the marquee for dinner and dancing already set up in the meadow. All of the table decorations had been readied, and Molly insisted the food required no assistance. Fleur had been over all day, helping Hermione make the bouquets and other floral arrangements, and stuffing favors into boxes. Hermione's dress had been hung neatly in the twins' room, where Hermione would be sleeping, waiting for the following afternoon's events.

The hen night was much more fun than Hermione had anticipated. All of the Weasley and soon-to-be-Weasley women were present, even Daphne, as well as Luna and even Lavender, Parvati and Padma made appearances. There was a great deal of laughter and high spirits and a surprising number of gifts for Hermione. They ranged from sentimental – a set of photographs in an album from Mrs. Weasley – and practical – a set of magical cookbooks from Fleur – to far more racy than Hermione was quite comfortable opening in front of Mrs. Weasley – naturally, from Ginny and Angelina.

It was well that they had been all together, as her last conversation with Fred had begun to run through her mind, over and over. She had not been concerned at the time, but she'd been left to her own devices a good deal while working through the list of things left to be done before the wedding. Never one to be idle in mind, Hermione started thinking, and naturally that conversation was paramount in her mind. A break from that, surrounded by women who loved her and were excited and hopeful for her was a great relief.

But now she was alone again, Molly having insisted the next day would be incredibly busy and therefore, everyone who still lived within the confines of the Burrow was to go to bed at a reasonable hour. Dutifully, Hermione went to the twin's room, but instead of falling asleep, she tossed and turned. Her mind was simply too active for her to succumb easily to sleep.

The question replayed. Was she nervous? Yes, she was. Fred had been right; it was rather a big deal. Even for Muggles, marriage was a big deal, and they were able to divorce and separate easily enough. As a magical couple, she and Fred would be soul-bound under a near unbreakable vow; there was no way out of the bond. For better or worse, indeed, she and Fred would be stuck together. Sobering thought, that whatever she felt towards him, she had no choice but to marry him the following afternoon. The sodding Ministry of Magic, always convinced they knew best, and rarely ever right. Hermione had allowed herself to be swept up into the budding romance with Fred and hadn't given much thought to the fact that this was not a choice she'd actually made, it was one that had been made for her with no recourse on her side.

The old resentment filled her for a moment and she sighed and flung her body over to lay on her other side. Truthfully, she did have a choice, just not a palatable one. Hermione could have married Ron, or attempted to find another wizard she felt comfortable with. She could have given up magic and returned to living as a Muggle. She could have chosen to move out of the country – Charlie was British, but as he lived in Romania, he was not subject to the law. There were many places Hermione might have chosen to go, had she really wanted to do so; she had not wanted to. Her choice had been made.

And really, she didn't begrudge it. The situation was frustrating, irritating, wrong. . . but she had still benefited from it in some way. Fred was a surprise. Fluffing the second pillow, she drew it to her, hugging it as she thought about Fred. True, he was still someone who liked a laugh and he was as sharp-tongued and spontaneous as ever. But he was also an extremely talented wizard, and a hard-working one. Fred was innovative, inventive and surprisingly patient. He was curious and probing, and adept at reading people. He was equally adept at hiding himself away inside a gregarious shell, of masking his inner thoughts and playing a role when he chose. Likewise, he was sweet and caring, quick to see to the comfort of those he loved and eager to please them. Hermione knew that Fred treated her as an equal to him, as a partner, which is what she had been looking for all along.

It was true that he had some scars; his near death experience had changed him, and Hermione didn't think he was entirely certain how. Certainly, both of them had seen first-hand how the confident, self-assured wizard could be undone by the threat of losing those he loved, and he was too apt to pull away from her or even George, hiding away his deep fears and dark thoughts. It worried her.

She loved him, and he loved her. But it was a new love, relatively untested, brought about by outside forces. Was there any chance she could be wrong? Was it merely infatuation, after all? Frowning, Hermione, rolled onto her back again, still hugging the pillow to her. She was logical, that was certain, so she methodically reviewed her relationship with Fred, and then went further back to her other relationships. On review, she had forced a great deal with Ron, feeling so certain that she had been in love with him and so certain that she was to be with him that she had tried to manufacture feelings that simply didn't exist as she had expected they would. With Viktor, there was barely even infatuation; he was famous and singled her out, treated her like a precious object, and more importantly, like a pretty girl. That was the most attractive thing to her; as his own person, she had never really cared for him. Not to imply she was using him, only to say that she'd been young and flattered and there had never been an expectation on her side of the relationship being a long-term possibility.

Fred though. . . with Fred it was so very different. It wasn't effortless, exactly, but it was natural and so it came easily. He put her at ease, and allowed her to be herself, as she was. He had no expectations of her, he made no demands of her. While there had been a constant struggle with Ron, a seemingly never-ending mental tally of faults and wrong-doings they both took note of, with Fred affection was freely given and freely received. Fred had told her, that day they'd worked to prepare for the Potter wedding, that she was very easy to love; Hermione didn't know if that was true, but the reverse certainly was. Fred was easy to care for. It was more than simple affection though – she felt that for George, for Harry, even for Ron and Percy. There was an attraction, and sort of challenge to Fred.

And they got on well enough; she had every expectation that they would live together amicably. She enjoyed his company, whether it was probing his creative mind in the workroom or simply watching him prepare food. There never seemed to be awkward silences, it seemed there was plenty of fodder for discussion. Fred had a keen mind and had proven to be shockingly (to Hermione's mind) well read and learned. She never got the feeling she was boring him or talking down to him, he held his own right enough. But he also drew her away from her books and theoretical exercises, and simply made her have fun. He'd introduced her to his circle of friends, and Hermione found she enjoyed the time spent with them far more than she would ever have guessed before. A chortle escaped her lips as she thought that Fred might even be better than curling up with a new book to read.

Hermione tried her side once again, tried to clear her mind and breathe slowly and deeply, but still her mind whirred. She was doing an honest, she hoped, assessment, and so far the conclusion was that she did, in fact, love Fred. Right, yes, she did. And she knew it. Given that, what was she getting so worked up over? It wasn't as if she had to worry over their sexual compatibility at this point. They were good in the bedroom, though she attributed much of that towards Fred's patience and greater experience. There were moments of awkwardness, and Hermione was still painfully shy about some things, especially when she felt naïve about things, but there again was an instance of Fred's care of her. The book he'd gotten – while humorous and potentially embarrassing – had eased some of her concern, made her feel less vulnerable or unaware. Though it was as much the time he'd taken with her that really mattered. When she was with him in intimate ways, time and reality seemed to melt away, and she found herself swept up in Fred and going along with his ridiculous schemes and ideas; she'd not yet regretted a single instance of their intimacy together.

Hermione sighed. All of this was true, but still. It was an enormous undertaking, and a grave responsibility. Things would change after this, no matter how much she'd enjoyed the previous few weeks, they were coming to a close. Things would change, but that wasn't necessarily bad. It simply required some adaptability.

Still, adaptability was more likely to come if she were bloody able to sleep! Giving it up as a bad job, Hermione pushed back what was left of the covers and swung her legs around to the floor, intent on going to retrieve some calming draught or sleeping potions that she knew Molly would have stocked in the loo or in the kitchen. A tapping at the window stopped her, and caused her heart to jump frantically into her throat, and grope blindly for her wand. However another few heart beats revealed it was nothing so dangerous as she'd first thought; it was the object of her thoughts in the flesh.

Shaking her head, she unlatched the window, and Fred flew into the room, much as he had that night a couple of weeks before. He hopped off his broom, but didn't release it, and grinned at Hermione in a way that made her question his sobriety.

"Are you drunk?" she hissed.

"What? No! I mean to say, I did have quite a bit to drink this evening, but no, I'm not drunk. I'm not crazy, Hermione, I wouldn't fly all the way here on a broom if I were drunk," Fred said, his voice puzzled.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, feeling a guilty that her voice was still taut and a little shrill. Taking a deep breath she said, "You startled me pretty badly."

Immediately, Fred looked apologetic. "Sorry about that. I didn't think you'd be awake. I was just going to leave a flower on your pillow, and a note." He produced both a large yellow rose and sealed envelope, a bit sheepishly.

Hermione's eyes softened and grew watery as she read the sweet, heartfelt note, and she smiled lightly. "That's really lovely, Fred. Thank you," she whispered, stepping across to him, and wrapping her arms around him, leaning up to kiss his cheek, and his lips. "Thank you," she said again.

Fred pulled away long enough to lean his broomstick against the wall, before pulling Hermione flush against him in a warm embrace. "Why are you up, anyway?"

Hermione made a face. "Can't sleep. I just have been thinking."

"That can be dangerous, love. What were you thinking about?" Fred swayed a bit, back and forth, a gentle rocking.

"You," Hermione admitted. "Us. I wasn't nervous before, when we talked. But I've been thinking, and well, I started getting nervous. You were right, you know."

"It does happen now and again, no need to sound so surprised," he teased. "But go on, tell me what I was right about this time."

"This is a big deal. It's a bit nerve-wracking."

"Don't tell me you're getting cold feet," Fred said, a look of fear flitting across his face.

"Would it matter if I were?" Hermione asked with a touch of acid in her voice. "We're bound no matter what."

"Is it so bad?" Fred asked, his voice low, a trace of pain in it.

"What? No! No. That's what I've been thinking about, Fred. This whole situation; it's wrong. Being forced into a relationship, more, into a lifelong bond, it's not right. I should be furious, we're being treated like house-elves. But I can't be angry," she said.

His face had slipped into a neutral mask as she spoke, tension creeping into his frame, but he was puzzled at her last words. "You're not angry."

"No. Because despite all of that, I was matched with you," she said simply.

They were quiet as Fred absorbed her words. He felt his eyes well up, but blinked to hold back his tears. He held Hermione tightly, trying to convey through touch what he was too choked up to say. After a few moments, he said roughly, "I love you, Mione. Best bloody thing that ever happened to me."

"I love you too."

"Since I'm here, and you're awake, do you want to go for a fly with me?" he asked, wanting the freedom of soaring through the air.

"I guess," Hermione replied, with a shaky laugh. "You won't let anything happen to me."

He kissed her forehead softly, and said emphatically, "Never. I will never let anything happen to you." Fred grabbed his broom and as before, made room for Hermione in front of him. She slipped onto the broom in front of him, and he wrapped one arm tightly around her, and guided the broom out the window with the other arm. Hermione leaned back against him and tried not to tense up too badly, as Fred swooped down and then back up and flew quickly towards the meadow. The marquee was already erected, so Fred circled it and then flew around the orchard, and back again. In deference to Hermione, he stayed at a steady speed and didn't swoop as he would have done on his own. After a half hour or so, he set down behind the marquee.

Hermione clambored off the broom with some relief. She was grateful that he didn't try to scare her, but she simply didn't enjoy flying as most of her friends did. Still, she gave him a smile, and took his hand in hers, and they simply walked slowly for a few minutes.

"So, still nervous?" Fred finally asked.

"Yeah, some, I suppose. But not so bad as earlier. Seeing you helps. How are you feeling?"

"Excited, I think. Glad it'll be over and done with." He squeezed her hand. "How was the hen night?"

Hermione chuckled. "A great deal of fun. And it was a good distraction from all my dangerous over-thinking. How was your stag night?"

"Fun. George got us all pleasantly pissed and we managed to prank nearly everyone there," Fred said, laughter in his voice. "It was rather like old times."

"What made you decide to fly out here?" she asked curiously.

Fred's ears turned red, though it was hard to see in the darkness, and he shrugged a bit. "Couldn't sleep, and thought maybe you'd like a note or something, since you were so insistent on not seeing me."

"All right, I admit it, it's a stupid tradition. I'd rather have spent the last few days with you," Hermione admitted.

"Well, fortunately for you," Fred said cheerfully, "after tomorrow, you'll get to spend all your days with me."

"True," Hermione said, smiling at his happy mood. "And you're here now."

"So I am. Though George is sleeping at the flat tonight, alone. I don't know if he would appreciate being left alone all night. I think he was rather hoping for some time alone with me, which neither of us will get much of in the future." There was catch in his voice, though his tone was still easy and relaxed.

"Right, of course. I don't want to keep you then. I'm very glad you came though. I'm looking forward to tomorrow, very much." She leaned into him, rested her head briefly on his arm.

"Well, there could be time for one last shag as a bachelor . . ." he offered, waggling his eyebrows at her suggestively. Hermione rolled her eyes in response.

"No, it's far too cold and exposed out here. But nice try, really."

Fred gave an exaggerated sigh of disappointment. "I'm wounded, Hermione, to the core."

"I'm certain you'll get over it," Hermione said dryly. "Come along then. I love your company, dear, but I should sleep tonight. And you should spend some time with George."

"You want to fly back?" Fred asked, humour sparkling in his eyes.

"I suppose it would be faster," she said reluctantly.

"Come on, I'll get you to enjoy it yet," he laughed.

"Unlikely," she grumbled, but dutifully climbed back onto the broom, and Fred carefully flew them back to his old room. Hermione sank gratefully onto the bed, with a sigh of relief, causing Fred to chuckle.

"Do you think you'll be able to sleep now?" he asked gently.

Hermione shrugged. "Maybe? I was getting up to get a sleeping draught when you arrived. It might not be a bad idea."

"I know something that could help you sleep," Fred said, his voice low and suggestive, making Hermione shiver with anticipation.

"Stop tempting me, Fred! You're incorrigible." She shook her head, but the look she sent him was affectionate.

"Dear me, Hermione. My intentions were pure as the freshly fallen snow. I was going to offer you a Sweet Dreams Mint. You jumped to more lascivious thoughts. I don't mind that at all, of course," he said, giving her a wink.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Sweet Dreams Mint?"

"Yes. A stronger dose of the daydream charm potion mixed with a weakened sleeping draught, and of course, mint. It's been tested, but we didn't get a great response, so we pulled it for a relaunch later," Fred explained. "There's a box under George's bed, I think." A summoning charm proved him to be correct.

"I'll take it, if you promise me it's fully tested and isn't going to do anything that will make me murder you before the wedding," Hermione warned.

With a flourish, Fred handed a newly-unwrapped mint to her. "Hermione, I will certainly try your patience any number of times, but I am not stupid. Of course I won't do anything that would ruin the wedding. You'll note that no one has played a single prank on you. Frankly, we all think you are terrifying."

"I distinctly remember you informing me that I wasn't scary at all."

"I said that your severe look didn't scare me, which isn't quite the same thing. You are a formidable witch, let's leave it at that. Come on then. Lay down, take the mint, and I'll tuck you in, yeah?"

Hermione followed his instructions. The mint was much like any other peppermint, though there was an underlying taste she knew was the potion, but couldn't entirely place. Fred kissed her cheek, pulled the covers up and smoothed them down, and even as Hermione's eyes began to close, he leaned in and nuzzled right at her ear, whispering, "Love you, Mione. See you in a few hours."

"Love you, Freddy," she mumbled, and then she was asleep, dreaming about a sunlit wedding, dancing around and around in Fred's arms. Fred picked up the flower and laid it on the pillow next to her. He straightened the covers again and then quietly flew back out the window, and apparated back to the flat.

-o0o-

George was waiting up for him, a flagon of mead opened before him, a tankard waiting for Fred.

"Cheers, mate. I was wondering if you were coming back tonight," George said with a smile.

"Sorry. Hermione was awake, so we went for a fly, talked a bit," Fred shrugged.

"No need to explain, Forge. I understand. So, how're you feeling?" George watched him closely.

"Well enough, I guess. A little nervous, mostly excited," Fred said. "What about you?"

"I'm in awe that you are getting married first," George chuckled. "If you are happy, then I am. I feel better knowing that you won't be alone. I've worried about you since you were injured."

Fred suddenly and quickly downed half his tankard. "Since I died," he said in a flat voice.

George looked at him a little cautiously. "Did you die?" Never before had Fred opened up even this much about his experience.

"I think so. One moment there was a crashing sound, and then suddenly, I was gone. In a new place, but it was more of a void than a place. There was nothing physical. I mean, I was there, and it sort of felt like my body, like I still had my senses, I could see, I could have touched, I could hear. But it was so empty. And you weren't there at all."

Fred stared unseeingly into his tankard, George sat frozen in the armchair, staring at him. It was a few moments before Fred continued on, in a toneless voice. "There was no time there, either. It could have been seconds, it could have been hours. I saw someone walking towards me. It was Fabian. Our uncle Fabian."

George's eyebrows creased. "Are you sure?"

"I know he and Gideon were alive when we were babies, but I don't remember them at all, do you?" George shook his head. "Gred, I could almost hear your voice. Not at first. But Fabian and I talked for awhile. He seemed almost confused at first about why I was there, and where we were. Everything was confusing though. It didn't make sense. I remember asking him when you'd show up, and he was surprised I hadn't asked if I was dead, since that was the more important question."

"Did you ask?"

"Yeah. He said I must still have some tenuous trace of life left, holding me there. That he wasn't sure, but he thought I would be able to choose between staying and coming back. That's when I could really recognize your voice. Then he smiled, and looked a lot like Mum, actually, and said the choice was made and that changes were coming that would be difficult. Then I felt like I was shattering and traveling and suddenly I was back again, in my body and the pain was incredible. And then I could feel you again."

"Did it. . . I mean. . . were you in pain?" George finally asked.

"Not while I was there. None at all. Except that I didn't feel complete. I was scared. Lonely and terrified, and worried about you. Honestly, Georgie, it was the worst bloody thing I've ever felt in my life, like I was incomplete without you there. Being completely alone, not knowing what was going to happen or if I'd always be alone. So much emptiness at first. . . I was practically petrified." Fred's forehead was creased, his face marred by a frown. "I don't know if I ever told you how terrifying it was that night we rescued Harry. Everything going all fucking wrong and then coming home to find blood everywhere and no one saying anything. I was so afraid, but at the same time, I knew you weren't dead. It's one of the things I thought about while I was there, that it had to be death to feel so torn apart. I hoped that you weren't as scared as I was."

"Oh, Freddy," was all George could say. His eyes were red and watery, his voice thick in his throat.

"I'm such a sodding coward, to be so frightened," Fred whispered.

"Being scared doesn't make you a coward, Fred. Bravery isn't about not feeling fear, it's about being afraid and bloody going on anyway. You were a Gryffindor, how'd you miss that one?" Both attempted to laugh, but the air was still heavy.

"Did you feel it, Georgie? Did you know?" Fred finally looked up and asked, his face that neutral mask that had so frustrated his twin.

"Yes. I wasn't there. I knew as I was rounding the corner that you'd been killed somehow. All I could think was it was my fault, because I left you with Percy, that I should have been with you. We thought you were dead. And then, everything was over and they were taking the bodies away, and I knew I had to try. And I made them check you, and you woke up and looked at me and I've never felt so much relief and so much fear at the same time. Your eyes . . ."

"I know I've been bloody nightmare since then. But you know how it feels. The idea that it could happen again at any point, with no warning. . . it eats at me. That was the worst thing I've ever felt, George." The rawness of his voice, and the fear laced through it made George's heart clinch in his chest.

"Freddy, brother mine, don't worry about it. I don't want it any more than you do. But maybe this new arrangement will help, you know? You won't be alone anymore. You've got Hermione now, and you love her," George said in bracing voice, a bit jarring for its bravado.

"I do. And sometimes that helps. Other times, I have nightmares about her and all I can see is her dying somehow or other, and you, and the pain is unbearable. I'm afraid to let either of you out of my sight at times."

They were quiet for a time. "George, what would you have done if I had died? If I hadn't come back?"

"I don't know. When you were in hospital, I was a fucking wreck. Angelina kept reminding me that you weren't dead, that you were going to be fine. I asked her one night what would happen if you weren't. I told her I thought I'd die. I'd been drinking that night, see, and all I could think was that I'd drown myself in firewhiskey if you were gone. Angie wouldn't let me think about it anymore. Said it was pointless to bring that sort of pain in on myself. So I haven't. But I think I would have been a mess."

"Would you ever get over it?" Fred finally looked up at his twin, watching him.

George sighed. "I dunno, Freddy. What would getting over it mean? Would living anyway be getting over your death? I would never be the same again. And you? If I'd died that night we saved Harry? Would you get over it? It's a pointless sort of question to bother yourself with, and you know it. Why do you torture yourself?" His voice was gentle, coaxing.

Fred shook his head, something on the edge of his lips, something sharp or sad, but in a flash, he knew his brother was right. So his mouth twisted from a grimace into an approximation of a smile. "Right you are, Gred. We should be talking about something more interesting or profitable. After all, it's my last night as a bachelor, innit?"

George drained the remains of his own tankard and poured again for both of them, and raised his glass. "Too lamentably true, brother. This time tomorrow you will be agreeably occupied in shagging your wife senseless. So, here's to you and Hermione, and a long, happy life filled with no need for lust potions!"

Now smiling more naturally, Fred clinked his tankard against George's and drank deeply. They stayed up together for another two hours, cracking jokes, and simply enjoying each others presence in a way they knew would be rare in the future, all gloomy thoughts shunted aside for the moment.

-o0o-

_A/N: Well. Who knew that April would pass in the blink of an eye? And it's my favorite month too, so sad! Given that the next two weeks will be killer at work, I reckoned I better post this now. Next up is the actual wedding. I'm so behind right now, it's awful. I'll write when I can, but I've had to break to spend a little time with a new story. If I didn't get the outline down, I don't think it would have happened, and it's really got tons of potential, so . . . Hope everyone is hanging in and surviving the end of school for you poor sods at uni (like my dear husband, who went back after a few years off to finish up his degree). As always, I love your feedback. Cheers!_


	19. Chapter 19

_Disclaimer: The characters and world of Harry Potter are the exclusive property of their creator and various holders of rights (I am not one of them). In borrowing from this universe, I intend no copyright infringement and mean no disrespect. I make no profit from this endeavor except pleasure that others find it as fun as I do._

-o0o-

_Chapter 19_

-o0o-

Hermione was calm, though it seemed the Burrow was in chaos around her. She had spent the morning packing the rest of her belongings into two groups, both of which went with Ginny to the flat, one of which was intended (and as clearly marked as Hermione could make it) for their short honeymoon. Molly had been in the kitchen all day and after giving Hermione brunch and a cup of tea, had sent her upstairs to relax until it was time to get dressed.

When that time had arrived, Ginny and Fleur had been put in charge of Hermione, despite her protests. They threatened to put her in a body-bind until she subsided. She allowed them to charm her six ways to Sunday, and had to admit she was impressed by the results. Ginny had given her a lovely manicure and pedicure, while Fleur had made up her face quite subtly. Hermione did not look as if she were wearing glamour charms or makeup, she simply looked like a more sophisticated version of herself. Her eyes had been emphasized, her cheeks were rosy, her lips dewy and plump.

The only thing she had been allowed any say in was her hair, as Ginny and Fleur had argued good-naturedly over leaving it down or putting it up. To cease their bickering, Hermione had insisted that she would prefer it up, and Fleur had once again taken charge. Now Hermione was sitting in her robe, face made up, her hair done up in an elaborate coiffure that had the appearance of simplicity, silver and crystal tiara in place, sipping tea. Fleur had disappeared to help Molly finish up so that she could be dressed in time, Ginny was in the process of curling her hair, and already wearing her dress robes, when a knock sounded at the door.

Ginny motioned to Hermione to stay put while she opened it, to find George standing there, beaming at her.

"Can I come in? I come bearing messages and gifts," he said cheerfully.

"Up to Hermione, George. She's not dressed," Ginny said, looking over her shoulder to Hermione for permission.

"Nothing he hasn't seen before," she responded with a shrug. Ginny allowed George in, looking at Hermione was a single eyebrow raised before returning to the mirror to resume curling her hair

"Hullo, Hermione. You look bloody fantastic," George said, eyes roaming over her face appreciatively.

"You cut your hair!" she exclaimed in response. And it was true, George's hair was short and neat, the hole in his head where his ear ought to have been unnoticeable behind either a concealing charm or a redirection charm.

George shrugged. "Yeah, Fred said he wanted to do, and wouldn't _'ear_ of us not being as identical as possible on such a big day. I can grow it back out tomorrow, only takes a potion."

"That's sweet of you," Hermione said with a small smile. "I do need to finish getting dressed though, so why are you here?"

"Ah, yes. Dad wants you to know that everything is ready downstairs, and they expect guests to begin appearing in the next half-hour or so, and everything is on schedule. Bill wants to remind you to keep your wand on you, which is silly for a lot of reasons. And Fred wants you to know he's here, he got your bag and has already taken it to the hotel, something else I expect I can't repeat without being slapped, and he wants you to have this. All credit to Ginny for helping him pick it out. Something about other stupid traditions and making you happy." George produced a slim box from inside his robe and presented it to her with a flourish.

Ginny ceased her preparations and smirked a bit, watching as Hermione carefully removed the ribbon and shimmery paper and then opened the box to reveal a beautiful necklace. It was simple enough, a length of delicate white gold chain separated at intervals by small, bezel-set round blue sapphires, that flashed cornflower blue in the light.

"Oh, my. He oughtn't to have. . ." Hermione said softly, feeling overcome by the gift.

"Oh hush up, Hermione," Ginny said, exasperation evident in her voice. "It's a wedding gift. It ought to be special and beautiful. He chose sapphires because they are your birthstone, and because I explained that you hadn't decided on anything blue to wear. He knows how important these Muggle traditions are to you, since your parents aren't here."

"But I didn't do anything like this for him," she moaned.

George squeezed her shoulder. "Hermione, believe me, what you've done for him is worth a lot more than some jewelry. Fred doesn't do so much by way of romantic gestures, but when he does, he goes big. It's not like a Weasley twin knows any other way, after all," he said, winking with his last words.

"I did have something for him, but it's not much. Just. . . tell him I can't wait to see him, please George?" Hermione asked. "Wait just a moment, let me get them." She immediately turned to the dresser, and a small creamy satin bag, and reached into it. It didn't appear to be as deep as her infamous blue beaded bag, but there was evidently an extension charm in it. She rummaged a bit and finally pulled out a small wooden box and handed it to George.

"Cufflinks, and a tiepin," she said in response to his unasked question, a flush staining her cheeks red. "Nothing really special, not like this, but I thought he'd like them."

"May I?" George asked. At her nod, he opened the box and laughed appreciatively. The silver cufflinks and tiepin were fashioned to be shaped like exploding fireworks and charmed to flash red, blue, purple or green every few minutes. "It's perfect, darling Granger, he'll love them. Right. Off to go have a celebratory drink with my twin brother and then we'll see you down at the altar. Don't be late and make him worry, now, love!" George gave her a big wink and another sincerely appreciative smile as Ginny shoved him out the door, muttering that she would be late if he didn't leave already.

"Here, Hermione, let me fasten it on you. Need to see how it looks. You've no idea how much harassment I endured to help him find that. He was terribly insistent that it be absolutely perfect. Do you like it?" Ginny clasped the necklace securely and stepped back to study it.

"Oh, yes, Ginny. It's gorgeous. And simple enough that I think I can get a fair amount of use of it. My mother had a pearl necklace that had belonged to her grandmother, and she always disliked that she could never wear it because it was so fancy. This is lovely." Tears were forming in Hermione's eyes, and Ginny looked alarmed.

"Oh, don't cry, please don't. Your charms will be ruined and Fleur will be angry and you'll have to endure it all over it again. Think of something funny."

"Like Fred's face when I tell him about your sex advice?" Hermione asked innocently.

Ginny narrowed her eyes and glared at her. "You do not share my sex advice or our girl talk with my brother."

"Of course not. But the face he makes when he considers you engaging in marital relations is priceless. Rather similar to the look on your face now, actually."

"It's a good thing you're the bride today, Mione," was Ginny's only comment before she returned to curling her hair. Hermione resumed sipping her tea, and lightly touched the necklace once or twice. The anxiety that had kept her up the previous night had vanished with Fred's appearance. Her dreams after the charmed sweet Fred had given her were light and hopeful and filled with love. She had woken calm and happy, and now needed only for time to move a bit faster so that the anticipation was ended.

"You seem remarkably calm," Ginny commented, as she finished fixing her hair and took a moment to study Hermione.

"I am," Hermione replied evenly.

"I was a nervous wreck, and I wasn't matched without my consent," Ginny observed.

Hermione shrugged. "I was restless last night, thinking it all over. My opinion of the law hasn't changed at all. But in the end, perhaps I can't really complain. The outcome is better than I ever imagined. Despite what any of us might have thought initially, Fred and I are exceedingly well matched, and more than that, we love each other."

"I'm surprised by that I guess. As much as I knew things with Ron were not working well, I'd always had an image of you and Ron being together. You're so much happier with Fred, you just beam around him. It's evident that you bring out the best in each other, but it still takes me by surprise sometimes, I suppose."

"You haven't had much chance to be around the pair of us. You'll get used to it. I hope that you and Harry'll be able to work out your schedules and actually come over to the flat for dinner soon. I miss seeing both you so much."

"I know," Ginny sighed in agreement. "Me too. All of this growing up nonsense isn't as much fun as I'd anticipated when I was little. I guess I never realized how separated our lives would end up being."

"Yes, but you grew up in a big family and aren't long out of Hogwarts, where we were all together. It's good though, isn't it? I'm sure it's easier to live with Harry at Grimmauld Place instead of here."

"Yes, though Mum misses us a lot, I can tell. I don't know what she'll do now you're gone full time and Ron'll be gone in a few months."

"Oh, I expect I'll get along just fine, as I did when you lot were all in school, Ginevra," Molly said from the doorway. Both girls jumped and blushed as if they'd been caught out at something.

"Oh, Molly, you look just lovely," Hermione said, trying to change subjects. Molly was again in the amethyst colored robes she'd worn to Bill and Fleur's wedding.

"Why thank you, dear. I just wanted to pop in and make certain you're nearly ready. I've got those earrings of Arthur's great-aunt here for you. I'm so pleased to have such a fine daughter in law to give them to," Molly said, softness in her voice, a gentle smile on her face.

"I suppose it is about time for me to dress," Hermione agreed, feeling a frisson of excitement mingled with nerves run throughout her body. She shrugged off her robe, and Ginny helped ease the silvery-white under-dress over her carefully coiffed hair, and once it was on, Molly was waiting with the lace robe.

Molly helped her adjust it over the dress, helped straighten the collar, and generally fussed over her. Hermione felt a bit surreal standing in the dress; it was just as lovely as she remembered it being, and she felt every bit as pretty in it as she had when she first tried it on. The creamy lace suited her complexion, but the crisp detailing of the cut and the open collar gave it a more modern, tailored look that suited her well. Ginny helped her into the strappy silver shoes, and Molly handed her the goblin-made silver earrings, which dangled and gleamed prettily from her ears.

They stepped back, watching her as Hermione took a good look in the mirror. Molly continued to smile gently, and had the look of blinking away tears that she had worn for much of Ginny's wedding. Ginny, on the other hand, caught Hermione's eye and gave her a thumbs-up and a low whistle, making Hermione laugh. She looked at herself again, and barely recognized the woman looking back at her; it was no surprise, for the woman in the mirror was grown up and looked like, well, a bride. Even at this moment, Hermione had difficulty thinking of herself as such. It was all so surreal.

Molly cleared her throat. "Well, dear girl, you look absolutely lovely. I've no doubt that my son won't be able to tear his eyes away from you. I've got to go check on things, but guests have begun to arrive and we'll be starting soon. I'll send Harry up with the flowers to get you when it's time."

Impulsively, Hermione threw her arms around the woman, trying to communicate how grateful she was for everything. "Thank you, Molly," she whispered, feeling her eyes well up again.

Ginny sighed in an exaggerated way behind her, and conjured a handkerchief. "Really, Hermione, you're just begging for trouble if you keep going off like a leaky faucet. Fleur is a downright menace when it comes to cosmetic charms."

Hermione released Molly, fanned away her tears and all three women shared a quick laugh.

-o0o-

"Come on, one more shot of firewhiskey isn't so bad. It'll calm your nerves," Bill said soothingly.

"Bill, you're going to get me in trouble. If Hermione so much as even thinks that Fred had more than a single shot of alcohol before the ceremony, she'll blame me. She's downright scary, I tell you," George said in a mock-frightened voice, while directing a quelling look at his twin.

Fred gave his brothers a half-smile, but continued his pacing. He wasn't generally one to be nervous like this or to worry, but he couldn't seem to help it. The forced inactivity of waiting for the ceremony to begin was grating. And much as he was willing to admit that Hermione had chosen smashing dress robes for them to wear, the cobalt blue making them look distinguished even, he didn't particularly like wearing dress robes. He flopped onto the sofa and looked again at his twin.

"You sure she liked it, mate?" he asked for the tenth time.

George rolled his eyes. "Yes, brother mine, she liked it very much. I told you she'd think you spent too much, but yes, she was pleased by it. She clearly had something similar in mind for you, though she's worried it's not fancy enough."

Fred had, as George expected, been delighted with Hermione's clever gift, and even now, the fireworks on his tie-pin flashed red and blue simultaneously before turning silver again. He touched the cufflink lightly, then picked up a pillow and began twirling it in his hands.

"Right. Fine. Is everything in place for the reception?" he asked after a moment.

Bill's eyes narrowed some. "Frederick, what are you talking about?"

George and Fred exchanged quick, mischief-filled looks before pasting on a wide-eyed look of angelic innocence that would never work on their eldest brother, who had seen it far too often in their lives.

"Why, William! I can't imagine what you mean!" Fred exclaimed.

"One would think you didn't trust us," George said in a mournful tone.

"What on earth could we possibly have planned?" Fred asked.

"It's a _wedding_, for Godric's sake," George said.

"_My_ wedding," Fred elaborated.

"And Hermione would kill us if her wedding were ruined," George said in the mock-frightened voice from earlier.

"Which doesn't mean that we haven't considered our options," Fred said, a sly smirk crossing his features.

"Hermione was pretty explicit about what wasn't allowed," George added.

"Said no one at her wedding could be transformed into an animal or an inanimate object, and we better not ruin the event," Fred said in a good imitation of his bride.

"So we found a way to _improve_ it," both twins finished together, grins in place.

Bill watched this back and forth with patient amusement, and merely shook his head when they had finished. "I hope you know what you are doing, young ones."

"Oh, I think we do," George said with a wink and then turned to his twin. "Everything is in place. I've got you taken care of. Wouldn't dream of leaving my own twin's wedding reception to be fussy and boring!"

Fred nodded in satisfaction, and before anyone else could say anything, Harry appeared, holding two bouquets. Fred and George exchanged their evil grins once again, but Harry glared at them.

"Not a word, mates, not a word. It's nearly time to begin, so you'd both best take your places. Percy is waiting for you at the lane. Nearly all the guests are here, and it's beginning to get dark. Charlie's lighting the lanterns now, could probably use your help, Bill." He turned and quickly climbed the stairs.

They met Molly and Arthur outside the house and Arthur had a quiet word with Bill while Molly fussed over George and Fred's robes, approving of their "neat and tidy, for a change" appearances, thanks to their recent haircuts. Fred looked inquiringly at his dad, who simply smiled at him encouragingly, and they made their way through the growing dusk to the edge of the orchard where Percy was waiting for them.

As Percy officiously organized them into the proper processional order, while the magical musicians played soft music and the guests talked quietly in their seats, George whispered to Fred.

"You know, brother, I've got a bet going you could help me with."

"What's that?" Fred asked warily.

"Fifty galleon pool against Ron, Percy, Bill and Charlie about your first kiss. They're betting that Hermione won't let you kiss her for more than twenty seconds, closed mouth only," he said.

"Done," Fred said with a wink for his twin, before seeing a flash of blue sparks from the house, the signal that the bride was on her way.

"You're going to be all right, brother," George said as the music changed and Molly and Arthur made their way up the aisle to take their seats and open the procession.

"You think so?" Fred asked, finally betraying a moment of nervousness, as Percy began making his way up the aisle.

"Course," George said stoutly.

"How do you know?" Fred asked.

"I'm Gred. I know everything," George laughed, and so did Fred. "Come on, then, our turn to walk towards your shackling and doom."

Shaking his head, Fred threw his arm around his brother and George did the same, and they walked up the aisle together, both smiling. Once at the alter, after a stern look from Percy that was softened by the smile he also wore, they separated. Both turned to face the end of aisle, and the music changed again, and Fred could see a figure in a light color, but no details for a moment until Harry and Hermione were a bit closer, stepping into the light provided by the fairy lights and colorful lanterns festooning the orchard and set along the aisle. Ginny followed sedately behind them.

They paused for a moment as everyone stood up, and Harry whispered something to Hermione which made her bite her lip and smile, and then she and Fred locked eyes and he drew in his breath sharply. She was stunning, glowing even. The dress highlighted her curves, the jewelry – including the necklace he'd given her – glittered in the fairy lights, and she tightly clutched a large bouquet of the brightly colored gerbera daisies. Fred barely noticed though, not consciously. She was smiling at him and looking serene, and that's all he could focus on.

George leaned over and whispered, "Close your mouth, you're drooling." Fred snorted with laughter and tried to cover it with a cough which wasn't convincing at all, but it didn't matter, because they were there. Ginny slipped into her place at the other side of the alter, clutching her own bouquet and looking as lovely as Hermione had suggested she would. Fred stepped forward, and Harry shook his hand and kissed Hermione on the cheek, before passing her hand to Fred and stepping back.

Together, Hermione and Fred stepped forward, and faced Percy, who cleared his throat and began the age-old ceremony.

Truth be told, afterward, neither Fred nor Hermione could have said much about what happened during the ceremony. Percy had blathered on about the traditions of hand-fasting, explaining the significance of each color they'd chosen for their binding cords, and then they were facing each other, hands clasped as Percy symbolically tied their wrists together with each cord. They repeated the vows they'd written together after they had made up from their misunderstanding.

"I take you, Frederick, to be my partner and spouse, to share this life together. In so doing, I promise to be loving, gentle and kind. I promise to seek first to understand and then to be understood. I promise to cherish you and honor our bond through all fortunes, fair and ill, until this life ends." Hermione's voice was soft, but clear, her grip tight on his hands.

Fred cleared his throat. "I take you, Hermione, to be my partner and spouse, to share this life together. In so doing, I promise to be loving, gentle and kind. I promise to seek first to understand and then to be understood. I promise to cherish you and honor our bond through all fortunes, fair and ill, until this life ends." Hermione beamed at him, and he returned her smile, and with a small flash, the cords tying their wrists together split into two bracelets, each made of all the cords woven together.

Percy produced their wedding rings, and they floated above their still joined hands, as Percy cast the ministry-required spells on the couple. Then they each slid the rings onto the others hand simultaneously, where the sizing charm ensured they fit comfortably, and then they were asked to produce their wands. While their wands were touching, they repeated together, after Percy's lead, "I swear upon my magic, I am bound to you and you alone."

There was a flash of light, and Percy spoke an incantation in a low voice, and Fred and Hermione stared at each other, feeling a rush of magic flow through both of them, from their still-clasped hands and their wands. It was ebullient, joyful, loving, peaceful, and hopeful, and then there came a shower of silver stars, and Percy declared them bound and married and Fred, remembering his promise to his twin, swept Hermione into his arms, and dipped her low. Her urge to protest allowed him to take advantage successfully and he kissed her as thoroughly as if they'd been alone together, going on long enough for Percy and even George loudly to clear their throats amongst the titters, catcalls and applause.

Hermione was blushing fiercely when he pulled her back into a standing position, but her eyes were twinkling, and Fred gave her a wink and a little shrug as if to say he couldn't help himself and felt his brother clap him on the back, as Ginny returned Hermione's bouquet to her, and then, grins in place, they made their way back up the aisle as the magical musicians played a jaunty tune. No sooner had they reached the end of the aisle, then a crackling sound stopped them and they immediately looked up to see a magnificent fireworks display going off above them.

Fred shot a look at his brother who grinned and looked smug, and then he wrapped his arm around Hermione, and they snuggled together to watch the display. Fred was vaguely aware of the delighted sounds of the guests and of the photographer Molly had hired taking pictures as quickly as he could of the couple and the magical display, but Fred didn't much care.

"It's beautiful, Fred," Hermione breathed.

"It's not my doing in the least, a surprise even to me," Fred said with a smile that lit his entire face.

"Remind me to thank George," she said.

"Later," he replied, before leaning down to kiss her again. "I love you, Hermione Weasley."

She laughed a little at the strange sound of her new name. "I love you too, Fred."

Once the display had ended, the guests trickled into the marquee, and all of the family and wedding party were posed for pictures. Fred found that he didn't like being separated from Hermione at all, and had an overwhelming desire to touch her, to be near her, more than usual anyway. The pictures were quickly finished, and the family began making their way towards the marquee, talking loudly about the ceremony and George's fireworks show, but Fred held Hermione back for a moment to give her another long, slow kiss, though a bit more privately.

"I don't think I've told you yet, Hermione, but you are fucking beautiful."

"Such language, Fred!" she laughed. "Is that anyway to compliment your bride?"

"Believe me, I can't wait to get you away from here so I can compliment you properly, wife." Fred nuzzled her neck, and Hermione chuckled.

"Always so lecherous. What happened to having extensive plans for the party, hmmm? All this time, I've been eager to see exactly how you and George have worked your way around me."

Fred clucked his tongue, but took her hand and they began walking towards the marquee as well. "Oh, ye of little faith! Did it never occur to you that perhaps Georgie and I might take this event seriously?"

A peal of laughter sounded on the air. "No. Of course not. Come on, tell me what I can expect."

"Where would the fun be in it? Oh, fine," he said, grinning at her huff of impatience. "You said no turning people into animals of any variety or into inanimate objects. You said nothing about appearances though. I'd avoid the mead and the apple cider, unless you fancy your hair changing color. And, er, the asparagus might be charmed to make people's noses change."

"Like Tonks used to do for us?" Hermione said, shaking her head but smiling.

"That was where the idea arose, yes," Fred said.

"You know you are incorrigible," she said, stopping at the entrance to the marquee.

"Yes, it's why you love me. What fun would it be if I were no challenge?" he asked, before kissing her forehead. Turning, they entered the marquee together, to a large round of applause and whoops of congratulations.

-o0o-

The reception began much like any other wedding reception, if one overlooked the odd hair colors and strange, but very temporary, animal noses people sported. A cheerfulness was pervasive, a warm feeling of good-will and enjoying a celebration among friends lent a palpable feeling of love and happiness to the event, rather like a living Patronus. Perhaps all weddings were similar, but neither Hermione nor Fred had quite felt it in such a way before.

They ate their dinner at a head table, with George and Angelina and Harry and Ginny seated alongside them. It was a merry affair, and Hermione did indeed pass on the asparagus and the mead, and giggled when Ginny yelped to see a duck's bill on her face and when Angelina's hair turned a shocking pink, and Harry's a similar blue to that which George had sported earlier in the week.

Arthur again brought the dinner to a close with the first toasts of the evening, speaking meaningfully about how lucky he and Molly felt that a girl they'd long loved as a daughter was officially part of their family, and how happy they were that this match, though made by the Ministry, was founded in love and respect. Ginny stood, as matron of honor, and talked about how happy the pair of them seemed to be with each other, wishing them long life and happiness in each other. And then George stood, and raised his glass, looking very serious.

"There was a time, thankfully brief, when I thought my brother and my best friend and my business partner was gone forever. In that time, I remember distinctly thinking that I wouldn't ever get to see him excited about a new product, or play another prank with him, or toast him at his wedding. But here we are, today, and I can do exactly that. There are a lot of sentimental, serious, heartfelt sorts of things I could say right now, but really, I have a reputation to maintain. So instead, I'll wish you many days filled with love, and many nights filled with the same sort of passion you displayed so loudly and freely in the workroom on Sunday before last! To Fred and Hermione, and lots of sturdy furniture!"

Hermione's face flushed bright red, and she buried her head in Fred's chest, and could feel his loud laughter, which he didn't bother trying to hide, as the wedding guests laughed as well and toasted them. She felt Fred shift and she looked up to see Fred stand to hug his twin, both of them laughing down at her. Her husband helped pull her up from her seat, and both twins kissed her cheeks, though Hermione shoved a laughing George off with a glare that she couldn't maintain long in the face of their good humor.

Molly came over and urged them to cut the wedding cake – Fred had eventually decided on lemon with strawberry custard filling – they each took a small piece in their fingers to feed each other. If Fred had been paying more attention, he might have noticed the mischievous look in Hermione's eyes, but he didn't. They both ate the small bit of cake at the same time, and a moment later, there was a bang; Hermione and Fred had disappeared.

There was a gasp, followed by a ripple through the crowd as they leaned forward, and then Ginny began giggling, followed by Harry and the rest of the Weasleys. In their places were unnaturally large turtle-doves. A few moments later, there was another loud bang, and Hermione and Fred reappeared. Fred looked very confused, and gave his brother a menacing look, but Hermione was unable to contain her laughter, which was echoed throughout the tent.

Fred turned to his new wife, and raised an eyebrow at her. "Hermione? What do you know about this?"

"Surely, Fred, you of all people know better than to eat a product offered to you by someone who works in development at a joke shop?"she said through her giggles.

"You spiked the cake? With a variant of Canary Cream potion?" he said, unable to hide his delighted grin.

"Only the very top layer. Happy wedding, darling," she said, stepping up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. Fred just shook his head.

-o0o-

The rest of the evening passed quickly, as there was mingling with the guests and dancing to be done, the non-spiked layers of cake to be cut, and a bonfire to enjoy. George managed another fireworks show later in the evening, under which Fred and Hermione danced together for the first time since their first dance, both of them having been claimed by other partners eager to speak with them and wish them well.

"I haven't gotten to tell you, but you look so nice, Fred. I was surprised you and George cut your hair," she said a bit dreamily.

"Well, I remembered you saying how much you liked clean cut men, and I knew it would make Mum happy. Not quite what I pictured when I said we could all do as we liked at my wedding, mind, but it's been better than I'd have imagined."

"How do you feel about your ring? I was rather worried. I almost picked out a much smaller band, but I thought you mightn't like it."

"This is fantastic, Mione. Just what I'd've chosen for myself. Er, what about you?" he asked, a touch of anxiety in his voice, as he looked at the three thin stacking rings, eternity bands with pavé set stones similar to her engagement ring, on her left hand which rested on his shoulder.

"I've not had a moment to really examine it, them rather, but what I saw was beautiful. It may be too tall with all of them to wear my engagement ring with though. What are the stones?"

"The top row are white diamonds, and the middle row is aquamarine, and the bottom is blue sapphire. I'm sorry, I didn't really think about your engagement ring with it," he said, frowning.

Hermione laughed. "No! I haven't tried it, it may fit. And I don't mind wearing it on my right hand if it doesn't. I love both rings, Fred, really. And my necklace. Thank you."

"And thank you for my cufflinks and tiepin. Very clever, really, and quite perfect. Er, sorry about George's toast. I promise I didn't know," Fred said sheepishly.

"Oh, it's fine. I expected something like that. I'm just grateful there were no pictures of us being handed out or anything. It's been really lovely, Fred."

"Night's not over yet, love. Lots more to go," he said in a low voice, directly by her ear. "Now, I've got a grand exit planned, if you think you can manage on a broomstick long enough to get across the anti-apparition wards."

Hermione pulled away and looked at him archly. "In my wedding dress? Are you serious?"

"You might have to ride sideways, that's true, but it'll be easier to hang onto me, right?" he said with a smile.

"You drop me, and I will hex you into oblivion. You know that?" Hermione said, eyes narrowed.

"Of course. But I won't. And it won't be for long, just until we can apparate," he said soothingly.

"Fine. But you have to tell me where we are going then. I know George ruined your surprise, but you've been very secretive." Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Going Muggle for this one. We're staying at a gorgeous posh hotel in Bath. I thought you might want to get out of London for a bit. This place used to be a country house or some such, but is supposed to be top notch, with incredible food."

A smile spread across her face. "Really? That sounds wonderful. I've never been to Bath."

"Then we'll get to explore it together. If I can be persuaded to leave the room, that is," Fred said with a grin.

"When are we leaving then?" Hermione smiled up at him, no longer dancing, but leaning into him.

Fred, being a man of action, quickly spoke to his brother and it was not fifteen minutes before the bride and groom had danced their last dance, said their goodbyes, been given a parcel by Mrs. Weasley in case they got hungry, and been showered with rice as Fred helped Hermione onto the broom that George had decorated for them, and they were off, leaving a trail of flower petals raining down on the guests below them.

As promised, once the anti-apparition wards had been cleared, Fred set them down. Even if he'd wanted to, he couldn't have flown terribly far with Hermione clutching him so tightly. He shrunk his broom and stuck it in his pocket and held out a hand for Hermione.

"Wait, one moment,"she said, looking at him critically. "You might want to take your robe off, if we're going to a Muggle place and not just apparating into the room. The rest looks reasonable enough, but dress robes would stand out. If you fold it over your arm, it'll look like a coat or something. There we are. It's a bit chilly, so a warming charm might be a good idea."

Fred patiently did as he was told and then, finally, Hermione took his arm and he apparated them to a thankfully empty alleyway near their hotel. More firmly securing her hand on his arm, he lead them down the street a short ways and into a circular drive in front of a large Georgian mansion. Hermione gasped in delight.

"Oh, Fred, this is gorgeous. Like stepping into Jane Austen! How did you find this?"

"I did some research. Come on, then. Plenty more to see, and do, frankly," he said, smiling at her pleased reaction.

They walked into the main foyer, where the desk was located, and Fred stepped over. "I checked in earlier, but left my keys at the desk."

Fred stopped to retrieve the keys and accepted the desk clerk's effusive congratulations on their marriage. Hermione blushed a bit and smiled as Fred thanked the clerk, and then Fred took her hand and escorted her up the central staircase. They climbed two sets of stairs and then made their way down a short hall with only two doors.

"We're on the right," Fred said, and used the keys to unlock the door, before swooping Hermione up with no warning, making her gasp, then laugh, and skipped ceremoniously over the threshold.

"For Merlin's sake, put me down, Fred," Hermione said through her laughter. Fred obliged, holding her until she was steady on her feet.

"I can't possibly have said it enough, Mione. You look stunning. Those robes, your hair, everything. You are breathtaking." Fred looped his arms around her and held her loosely.

"What did George say to you as I was walking up the aisle that made you laugh?" she asked.

"He told me I was drooling, to shut my jaw. It might've been true. What a vision you made," he said.

"You are pretty handsome yourself. I like to see you all dressed up like this. And I love your short hair," she said, reaching up to ruffle it. They looked into each others eyes for a long moment, until Hermione pouted her lips just so, and Fred couldn't resist kissing her. That kiss become long and involved, and both of them were breathless at the conclusion of it.

"Dunno about you, but I could probably use a shower," he said suddenly.

"It would be nice. I'd like to undo all these charms Fleur used," Hermione admitted.

"Let me help you out of that, and I'll go start the shower, and we can take one together, yeah?" Fred said gently. Hermione nodded her agreement. It was not a quick process, as Fred stopped to kiss her or trail his fingers over her with seemingly every inch of skin that was exposed. Hermione was flushed and aroused by the time she was finally undressed. Fred winked at her and shed his own clothes quickly on the way to the shower. Hermione removed her jewelry and her tiara, and then quickly canceled the charms Fleur had painstakingly created.

That done, her hair tumbling around her, she joined her husband in the shower. There wasn't much by way of cleansing, but neither bride nor groom complained.

-o0o-

_A/N: I figured that if today happened to be the last on earth, some of you might appreciate getting to read about the wedding first. ; ) I expect, however, that I will still be working on this story next week though. I don't anticipate another update before June, sadly, and I'm nearly caught up to what I've already written. I am pretty clear about where this is going, but it's been slow getting there. I hope the wedding manages to do justice to expectations, it was such fun to write. As always, I love to hear your thoughts and reactions. Hope all is well; cheers!_


	20. Chapter 20

_Disclaimer: The characters, history and universe utilized here are borrowed from JK Rowling et al; my writing is solely for enjoyment and no profit is made or copyright infringement intended._

-o0o-

Chapter 20

-o0o-

Hermione stretched languidly, feeling sated and content. Fred chuckled beside her, from the tangle of the sheets, propping his head up with a hand to get a better view.

"You know you always do that after a fantastic shag," he said.

"Do I?" she asked innocently.

"Mmm, yes, it's become quite the ritual. I don't mind, it's a nice boost to my ego," he said, eyes twinkling at her. She huffed, but Fred had learned that her huffs of annoyance often concealed her amusement when she didn't want to encourage him.

"I hardly think an ego as massive as yours needs any help in staying afloat," she said tartly.

Fred merely winked in response, reaching out to twine his fingers round hers, and they rested together in companionable silence, finally broken by Fred.

"Open book?" he asked. Hermione twisted so that she could lay on her side and see his face, their hands still securely held together.

"Of course," she said, curiosity obvious.

"When do you think you'll want children? It's been a long time since we discussed it," he said softly. A look of alarm passed over her face, and he hastened to add, "I'm not suggesting we change our agreement to put them off a bit, I'm just wondering when you see it at this point."

"Right. Good. Well, if I'm being honest, I'd never considered having children before I was thirty or so. I do think that it's important that we have time together as a couple, to establish our relationship, before we seriously consider having children. There are things we both want to do that would be difficult with a baby." She bit her lip, wondering if she was disappointing him. "Really, I don't think it's something I'd want to do for three or four years at least."

"That's about what I was thinking too. If we're going to get serious about splitting the product lines or opening another store, it will take some time to develop things. Something George and I, and you now, really, need to sit down and discuss."

Hermione nodded. "Of course. But I think that has to be delayed for the moment."

"Until we figure out what is happening, you mean? Yeah," Fred said darkly.

"I didn't even think to ask you; did you make any headway when you met with the supplier?"

Fred frowned a bit. "Not really. Dodgy sort of chap too. Slippery like Dung is, y'know? I think George and I may need to begin making regular appearances at the Leaky again. Be a good excuse to eavesdrop, be familiar. Actually, getting married will help a bit with that."

"How so?" Hermione inquired, eyebrow raised.

"Both of us have avoided it a bit since we returned to Diagon Alley. Now it'll be an easy excuse to say we're meeting up for a pint away from the wives. Probably be less suspicious than simply showing up, given everything that's happened. And then again, there are places we could visit, you and I and George and Angie, for some reconnaissance as well."

"Oh, rather like a proper date, that? I don't believe we've really had one, not since that first evening after we were matched," Hermione mused.

Fred looked startled. "That's true. I hadn't even realized. We've been rather domesticated from the beginning, haven't we?"

"Not surprising. I'm not much for going out, and you've not seemed terribly keen on it either, despite your former reputation."

"No. I suppose I've been a bit less interested in company," he said thoughtfully. "Though it does show how lamentably stodgy I've become that I've never taken you for a proper date. Haven't even taken you out for drinks with everyone." Fred shook his head in exaggerated disgust.

"We'll make it a point to do that soon then. Or maybe have some people over for drinks? Perhaps after George has moved out and the flat is redecorated. Maybe for Christmas."

"Worth considering." They fell quiet again, and Fred finally stirred. "Are you feeling peckish at all? I was thinking of getting an early lunch, so we'll have the afternoon to roam about the city some more. I know you've been longing to play tourist again, and we've got that Order meeting tomorrow evening."

"And here I thought I'd have to beg and cajole to get outside today. I rather thought you'd say we should stay in and shag all afternoon, since we've got to be back for that Order meeting tomorrow evening," Hermione said, releasing Fred's hand with a squeeze, and sitting up in the bed.

"Oi, I can be an agreeable husband! Least, after a morning like this," Fred laughed. "Besides, I figure you're going one way or another, and I'm not about to let you go alone, am I?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and began dressing herself. One thing she knew from experience; when a Weasley was feeling peckish, it was a very bad idea to deny them food for long. And she did very much wish to see what she could of the city before their too-brief escape from the world ended.

-o0o-

The hotel was a bit of a walk from the center of the city, but neither of them minded. The fall air was crisp, it was a lovely day; quite chilly, but not really cold. Hermione and Fred spent a companionable afternoon exploring the major sites of the city they hadn't seen in previous days; neither of them had been before, and there was something almost freeing about walking anonymously through the streets, hands entwined or arms around each other. For a moment, they were simply two young people in love with each other and pleased with the world. There was no lingering threat of violence, no worry over their relatives or fretting over a wedding, or a business, or upcoming tests. All that existed was the warmth and love of each other and their simple happiness at sharing a pleasant afternoon together.

Perhaps the glow of the afternoon dulled their senses, perhaps they'd not have noticed, even if they'd been on alert. The shadow that followed them, sliding into alleyways, melting into the crowds in the market, was quite good at what he did, after all.

-o0o-

Early the next morning, Hermione lay awake. She couldn't be certain what had woken her. Fred was sleeping peacefully on his stomach next to her, arms thrust akimbo. No matter the source, she was awake, though sleepily so, as if she could drift back at any moment. Her thoughts trailed pleasantly with no conscious direction, simply flowing like a river over a small band of pebbles. Her mind replayed their lovemaking in luscious detail; she had been shy and hesitant, but she overcame that to play out one of Fred's fantasies, binding him to the bed and ravishing him. She had greatly enjoyed the feeling of power and the sensation of looking down on him as he moved inside her.

From there, the feeling of warmth and love and safety took her drifting thoughts to the Burrow, to the bonfire that had roared in the meadow during their wedding reception, the feeling of dancing in Fred's arms, the fireworks, and then she was drifting slowly back to sleep, swaying, swaying, back and forth in a lulling rhythm, shadows dancing at the edges of their vision, darkness flitting through, sleep claiming her . . .

And then she frowned, again, suddenly awake, though more so than before. Something was there, just at the fringes of her awareness, something small, but potentially significant. If only she could think, could recapture the idea that was niggling into being. It seemed important, somehow, but she wasn't sure she even knew what the thought might be connected to, what events triggered it. By process of elimination, she could deduce it was likely to be about their unknown assailants, but she couldn't be sure. How irritating to be thwarted so. But there was nothing for it; all she could do was try and return to sleep and hope that the thought worked itself out when she was more consciously aware of what it could mean.

Sighing a bit, Hermione reached over and shook Fred's shoulder, until he was roused enough to move and sleepily snuggle up against her, an arm holding her close. Feeling more comfortable, she allowed herself to fall asleep again.

-o0o-

A grinning George greeted the pair from his perch in an armchair, a book in his lap.

"Well, hello there, lovebirds. Have a nice honeymoon, then?" he asked.

Hermione waved at him, but left Fred to answer as she levitated the unshrunk luggage towards their bedroom. Fred made his way into the kitchen, and retrieved two butterbeers.

"It was bloody fantastic. The hotel was excellent, the city was interesting and the food was indescribably good. You want anything while I'm in here?"

"A butterbeer's fine, mate. And the sex?"

"Was blissful, and any further than that will be left to your own imagination, George. Least while I'm in the room," Hermione said, reappearing, her face wearing a look of disapproval. "Really, you boys can have a gossip later, when I'm not about." She flopped onto the couch beside Fred and took a butterbeer from his hand.

"Oi, we do not gossip!" George said, pretending to look outraged.

"You lot gossip like housewitches," Hermione affirmed, her eyes crinkling in mirth.

"What I think my wife intends to say," Fred began, but was interrupted by George.

"That sounds so weird, Forge. Your wife."

"Yes, well, be that as it may, I think she's still annoyed with you referencing our tryst downstairs in your wedding toast, brother."

George laughed. "I'd apologize, but I wouldn't mean it. As I told Fred that morning, next time, try the table that's bolted into the wall, or his old favorite standby, the silencing charm."

Hermione simply blushed and took a swig of butterbeer to hide it, while Fred looped arm around her shoulders and kissed her cheek.

"If you're quite finished," Fred said, voice filled with humor, "then fill us in. Anything odd happen while we were gone? Anything we should know before the meeting?"

George suddenly looked thoughtful. "No, not as such. No major issues, obviously, or I'd have had Harry contact you on the telley-thingum. Another odd report down the Alley; I spoke with Jiggers about the back-order of bicorn horn and asked about when he expected the next crop of fluxweed. Normal talk, like. He mentioned that there've been some disruptions down in Knockturn. Obviously, King's had MLE sweeping through, but it sounds like this is beyond the norm for Knockturn. And then Jiggers mentioned it was a good job we'd placed the last order for lacewing flies when we did, because he's had a run on them."

"Lacewing flies?" Fred confirmed with a frown.

"Yeah. You know well as I do that outside of Polyjuice, there isn't much that should cause large-scale orders like that."

"How hard is it to get hold of boomslang skin?" Hermione asked. The twins exchanged guilty glances.

"It's not as easy as a lot of things, because boomslang aren't native and the Ministry has restrictions on trading in goods like that. Like to make their own tidy profit off it," Fred said. "Can be done though, without too much fuss, if you look in the right places."

"Like Knockturn Alley?" Hermione questioned in a wry tone.

"You could probably find someone there to sell it, but it shouldn't create a disturbance. No, I expect Percy or Dad will have some insight into that," George said. "It occurs to me though, that a little work trying to figure out what sorts of large-scale orders have been placed is a good idea. Perhaps it's time to expand our suppliers, brother."

"I was thinking Jiggers is a bit small to meet some of our needs," Fred said with a knowing smirk. "I also think we need to start having a pint out to complain about the women. Perhaps invite Lionel out once or twice, Lee certainly."

"Married all of, what, four days and you're ready to start whinging? The sex can't have been that good," George said slyly, as Hermione shot him a glare that could melt candles, making him laugh. "All right, I'll leave off. Just don't send those bloody birds of yours pecking after me, yeah?" Her eyes narrowed dangerously as Fred laughed. "I get the idea, think it's a good one. If nothing else, _I_ can complain about your wife, yeah?"

Hermione reached for her wand, even as George ducked, still laughing, and Fred quickly distracted Hermione by the expedient of tugging her body closer to him and kissing her thoroughly. He released her and smiled at her with a hopeful sort of look.

"That won't always work. Bear that in mind, Georgie," Hermione said, settling back with her butterbeer. "Anything besides your chat with Jiggers?"

"Nothing that I heard about, no."

Hermione frowned. "You know, it's very odd. There were a number of wards tampered with, but none more than once. Really, you know, you are the only group targeted more than once, that we know of anyway."

"That hadn't escaped our notice," Fred said dryly.

Hermione made a noise of impatience. "Yes, but why the two of you? The shop has been targeted three times now. That doesn't count the bag of weasels, but I think that was just dramatics anyway."

"Dramatics?" George asked disbelievingly.

Hermione nodded slowly, her face a mask of concentration. "Yes. Really, in itself, what was it? A malice-filled message, but no real harm to anyone. It was meant to cause alarm and frighten us. Why else do it when they did? Could've been done anytime, but they waited until the house was full, which provided maximum upheaval; but after a big event, when real mayhem or harm or fear could have happened."

"How do you know they waited?" Fred asked, leaning forward some.

"The monitoring spell that didn't trigger an alarm. That had been in place, I think for awhile. Think about it for a moment, your wards and the Burrow's wards were similar. Why weren't the wards at the Burrow triggered by the monitoring spell? That leads me to think that maybe the question to ask is why were yours?"

"So you think they were intended to be triggered," George said, suddenly very serious.

Hermione nodded. "Yes. If so, then we were to be set on our guard, warned that you are being targeted. The question becomes whether it is you being targeted, or me, or all of us."

"So we're back to where we were originally. Why are they targeting us?" Fred said with a sigh.

"Not exactly," Hermione replied, her voice thoughtful. "The question isn't simply _why_ are they targeting us, but _are_ they targeting us?"

"That makes no sense. You just argued that we're being targeted!" Fred said with some exasperation.

Hermione looked apologetic. "I know. I should say, are we, or you, the _main_ target? Or are you being targeted as a distraction from what is really being targeted? Much as the sack of weasels is a ploy, in my opinion, is the stuff happening meant to be a diversion or are we the prime targets? There seems to be a good deal of diversion until you consider the trapped box of charms. That seems far more serious than anything else, and I don't have an explanation for that."

"So we have to ask whether we are the primary targets or not. Because the reason we'd be a diversion is obvious enough. We've pulled enough pranks to see that clearly. But if we aren't the diversion, then we ought to go back to considering why we would be targeted."

Hermione nodded at George's words. His eyebrows were drawn together and there was a look of concern not often seen on his face before the war. "So, then, we have to think over why people would be after us, to try and figure out who is behind this nonsense and why."

"Well, we know there are still a handful of Death Eaters unaccounted for, and plenty of sympathizers about. We're a pretty prominent family of blood traitors, members of the Order of the Phoenix, and helped run Potterwatch."

"That's what is bothering me," Hermione said. "You two specifically seem to have been picked out from your family. Bill should be easy enough to trace, and he's considered a werewolf by some, and he married a part-Veela, so he would theoretically be a higher target than you lot. But there have been no attacks on Shell Cottage. Percy is visible in the Ministry and his flat in London is around other wizards, and was engaged to a Muggleborn before the Marriage Law came out. He seems the easiest target, frankly, unless you count the Quidditch players."

"What do you mean?" George asked, a flash of fear running across his face.

"I know that the pitch is protected against spell casting, but Quidditch players necessarily spend more time around the public. There are press and invited guests watching their practices, they often sign autographs before or after games. High visibility, and means of access. Given that none of them seem to have been targeted by this point, I doubt they would be. It always seems to come back to you two, maybe me." Hermione was frowning.

"Delightful," Fred sighed. "I wonder if there will ever be a time again when we aren't looking over our shoulders and living under a Fidelius."

A strange look crossed Hermione's face and she said slowly, "Say that again, Fred."

"What?" he asked, confused.

"Say it again, what you just said. There was something there. . ." she said, a faraway look in her eyes.

"I wonder if there will ever be a time again when -" he began, but was cut off.

"That's it!" Hermione exclaimed. "That's what was bothering me last night. None of us have asked this yet. And it's so obvious! The time. Or timing, rather. Why did this all start when it did?"

A knowing look passed over Fred's face. "That's a really good point, Hermione, actually."

George was frowning. "It's true, I'd not considered it before, but it is pretty odd. You'd think that the immediate aftermath of the war would've been good cover for someone. Why wait for the fall? It's been, what, six months? Yeah, there were things happening over the summer, but nothing major like what happened here."

"It's something for Percy, Ron and I to track, anyhow," Hermione said. "Something more concrete, anyway, than sifting through reports of every attack since the war ended and trying to make connections without knowing the motivations. I do believe that you lot were right to think there are connections out there, but I don't necessarily think they are the main things."

"Well, if you are going to share your devastating logic with everyone, then we probably ought to be on our way in a bit," Fred said, glancing at his watch. "You know we have to stop by the Burrow before we go to Harry and Ginny's. Mum's kept all the prezzies for us and wants to watch us open them while she fawns over us. Coming, Georgie? Or are you going to continue hiding up here?"

"Hiding? I'll have you know I was researching! I'd have stayed downstairs, but Lee is in a right foul mood because Alicia went and charmed their new bedroom lavender because she thinks it's a soothing color."

"Lavender. Now there's an idea, Fred darling," Hermione said with a thoughtful look on her face.

"Absolutely not," Fred said in a bored tone.

"What about a nice shade of rose pink?" she asked, her lips twitching slightly.

"Clashes with my hair," he replied, taking their now empty bottles to the kitchen and dropping them into the Vanishing cabinet.

"Your hideous work robes also clash with your hair, and yet you persist in wearing those," Hermione pointed out.

"That, darling, is a matter of honor. A pink bedroom is not going to happen," he said with a peck to her cheek. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go unpack the bags and put on a different pair of trousers and we can go."

She waved him away, turned back on the sofa to see George looking at her with a half-smile on his face. "What are you smiling about, George?" she asked.

"Just enjoying watching the pair of you. It's really good to see you getting on so well. You seem to make each other happy," he said seriously.

Hermione rested her chin on her hand, and considered that. "I think you are right. Things ought to settle down a bit now we're married. Still feels a bit odd. Like I'm only spending the night and will be back in your old room at the Burrow tomorrow."

"I'm sure things will feel more real when you get into a routine. Which reminds me, did you want to start on the shield charms tomorrow? I should be free in the morning, if you'd like me to teach you. It's quite simple really. Defense items are still selling really well, and probably will be popular at Christmas, given how jumpy people still are."

The remainder of their time at home was spent discussing the processes George had developed to attach charms to stationary objects while retaining their power. When Fred reappeared, George waved them on, saying he'd catch them up at the meeting. So they made their appearance at the Burrow, where Molly fussed over them appropriately until it was time for the meeting.

-o0o-

Harry and Ginny had redone Grimmauld Place; it looked completely different from what Hermione remembered. Kreacher had arranged the lounge so that there were seats to accommodate everyone who was expected and the dining room was lined with more food than could possibly be eaten even if every remaining member of the Order made an appearance.

Ginny whisked Hermione upstairs for a quick tour, and she giggled over Hermione's account of her honeymoon and made plans to have lunch later in the week when Ginny had a break in practice. Harry gave her a crushing hug and began quizzing her on her latest theories, which Fred had mentioned to him. Kingsley appeared shortly into her recitation, and the meeting was called to order.

Each of the subunits gave a precis of the information they had obtained or devised, and it was briefly discussed by the general assembly. Arthur and Bill Weasley outlined the new codes of communication and handed out sickles charmed with the Protean charm that Hermione had developed for the DA. It had been done before, but remained the most discreet and convenient way to communicate they could think of. Though Hermione had not shared her line of thought with Ron and Percy, much of it having been discovered lately, she found that they were of a similar or at least agreeable mindset and it was determined that they should redirect their efforts in examining the timelines of the events in addition to the possible linkages. Fred and George outlined their plans to expand their listening ears and reinsert themselves into the business of Diagon Alley, which met with approval, and others made similar offers and plans to gather information.

Once the general reports had been completed, Kingsley presented the findings from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement on the cursed box found in the shop, as well as the final reports on the ward breaches. It was brief; unfortunately very few traces were left behind. Tracks had been well covered. The only useful sort of information to arise was the knowledge that of the seven powerful curses placed on the box, only one was a curse of uncommon origin or knowledge. That was suggestive, both in lines of inquiry into the curse and elimination of potential suspects. That it could potentially be a ploy wasn't lost on the group either.

Little had been discovered, but at least there were new avenues to pursue; something concrete to trace that might lead them to uncovering who was behind the attacks. Perhaps equally importantly, why they were being targeted.

Following the reports, the subunits divided once again, so that they could strategize and formalize the divisions of labor. Fred and George split off to talk to Kingsley a bit more in depth, while Hermione turned to Ron and Percy and asked with a resigned air, "So how do we divide this up? I'm not even sure where to begin looking."

Ron looked thoughtful. "If the question is about timing, then maybe we should start by asking why they waited so long."

"Someone who was captured and released? Someone who had been injured? Someone who went into hiding?" Percy immediately suggested, resituating his glasses on his nose with a frown.

"Possibly. Those are the most likely avenues to research, anyway," Hermione said. "Percy, you'll probably have the best luck with going through the arrest records and releases, though if you can get them out of the Ministry, I can do as well. Then going through hospital reports to check for injuries and releases. But of course, we need some sort of starting date, don't we?"

Ron was frowning, a look of concentration similar to the one he wore during a difficult chess match on his face. "I went through that timeline you created, Hermione. I reckon that not all the events are tied together, but to be safe, we can start with the ward breaches. That was the earliest event, and those started back in late June or early July, not long before the Marriage Law was passed. Before that, things devolve too much. Too much action related to the pushes to round up Death Eaters and sympathizers to pick anything out that might be a pattern."

"Ronald's correct. Though I'd not noticed before that the tentative start to the actions could be traced to that point. Peculiar." Percy frowned in his turn, evidently turning something over that had caught his attention. "Yes, well, I think perhaps Ron can go through hospital reports. If the twin terrors are going to occupy themselves with studying potions ingredients and other magical oddities for purchase, perhaps you can do some background research and categorize what has been purchased and further investigate that line."

Hermione looked thoughtful and glanced across the room to where her husband was standing, arms crossed, listening intently to whatever Mundungus Fletcher had to say. It didn't occur to her to wonder how she'd known where he was without looking; she simply nodded her agreement to Percy's plans, and the three of them agreed to meet for lunch later in the week at the flat to share their findings.

-o0o-

At home again, this time carrying bottomless bags containing their wedding gifts, Fred and Hermione settled into their bedroom. George apologetically informed them that Angelina was spending the night, though she was running late from today's unscheduled practice. A moment of awkward silence descended; though all four had shared the flat before, it felt different now. Though it had been his home since leaving Hogwarts, George felt as if he were imposing, and though it was now her home, Hermione felt a bit out of place in a way she never had when she was just visiting Fred.

Fred broke the moment of tension by offering a game of Exploding Snap, over which they could further discuss tactics. George eagerly agreed and Hermione smiled at Fred, relieved that he had broken the tension. A full round had been played before the floo activated, spitting out Angelina, bearing bags of fragrant food.

"I'm in an utterly foul mood," she warned. "Took a bludger to my thigh because of that bloody idiot Matheson, and the potion hasn't completely healed it. So I thought horrid, greasy takeout was the best possible option, especially since I knew it was George's night to cook. Welcome home darlings." She kissed Hermione on the cheek and gave Fred a big hug.

Fred took the food from Angelina and Hermione began retrieving plates, while George hugged his fiancée tightly and offered to get some bruise paste for her. Hermione looked up in surprise when he asked that question.

"Does it really work for deep tissue bruises?" she asked.

Fred looked at her oddly for a moment. "Course, that's how we came up with it in the first place. Bludgers leave nasty marks and can be pretty painful. Works quite well for that, really, but I'd say my wandless healing abilities aren't so bad. Just less marketable," Fred concluded with a wink at Hermione, who pursed her lips at his oblique reference. He quickly turned to his old friend. "Angie, you want some wine or firewhiskey?" She asked for red wine, and Fred turned towards Hermione. "For you, dearest?"

"Red as well, please. That's terribly interesting, Fred. I wonder if it could be combined with a heating element or altered to be useful for something like arthritis," she mused aloud. Fred chuckled and handed her glass to her with a peck on the cheek.

"That's my girl. Georgie always said you'd be brill to have around for inventing. Now then, dinner everyone?" Plates filled with standard take out fare were levitated to the table and they ate comfortably together.

During the course of the dinner conversation, George caught Angelina up on the Order business she'd missed with the impromptu practice. She chewed on some naan thoughtfully and considered everything. The she turned to Hermione and said with a gleam in her eye, "Well, that can be played several ways. If the lads are going to have a pint and if we're going out for dates with the intentions of surveillance, then there is no reason not to have a girls' night as well. We can meet for tea, go shopping more regularly, visit some of the shops that might be curious to see blokes visiting."

Hermione's lips twitched, but the reasoning was sound. Scheduling their visits with each other and around the Alley and Hogsmeade would give them the widest flexibility to overhear something and to plant their ideas. Another thought occurred to Hermione, though. "How much marketing of your other lines do you do? Lee's rather genius with that sort of thing, but expanding your marketing can give you an excuse to visit some of these places, you know."

George grimaced a bit. "Like taking the Wonder Witch products to Madame Lavache's Relaxation and Day Spa? Oi, that might be carrying things too far!"

Angelina just laughed. "Wouldn't do you any harm to visit the place. Maybe even get your loving fiancée a nice prezzie."

"When you put it that way," George began, and then turned to Fred. "You can go!" Fred laughed and Hermione shook her head in amusement.

Conversation lulled a bit as everyone ate, but George wasn't one to leave things quiet too long, finally asking the question that both Fred and Hermione had been waiting for. "So, how does it feel to be married?"

"HA!" Hermione cheered quickly, glancing at her watch. "Five galleons, Fred. I was right!"

Fred made a face, but dug through his pocket and handed her the small stack of galleons, which she pocketed in turn. George looked unabashedly amused, and even Angelina was smiling.

"You bet on when I would ask you that question?" he asked.

"It was pretty standard, George," Hermione said unapologetically. "Fred didn't think you'd last so long. I said at least four hours." Her eyes gleamed at Fred, who couldn't be too grumpy, given how excited she was to have won the bet.

"Yes, well, to answer the question," he said loudly, as if he couldn't bear to be shown up by Hermione, though he was smiling broadly at her, "It's not terribly different from being not married. Not yet anyway."

"Hermione? What about you?" Angelina asked.

She shrugged a shoulder. "We've only been married four days, and haven't even spent a day in the shop or a night here. The honeymoon was lovely, being alone, just the two of us. There are some subtle changes. I find myself wanting to be physically near him more often, and there's a sort of, I dunno, relief that it's done and over with, you know? It's nice to be able to see him all I like." Hermione gave Fred a soft smile, and he reached over to take her hand in his and squeeze it.

"That's a fair statement, I noticed it too. Wanting to be closer, and wanting to touch more. Not surprising, really, since she's just so squeezable. On the whole though, given the small sample size, I'd say it's pretty brilliant," Fred added with a wink.

"Ahhh, me! Young love!" George said with an exaggerated sigh, before laughing at himself. "Well, enough sweetness and light for the evening. Back to reality tomorrow morning, and plenty to do."

"Yes, but it's probably worth it to begin outlining your strategies for moving about the Alley. Percy wants me to compile your data, so some planning will help," Hermione said. "Perhaps we should make a general chart, and charm it so that whenever any of us goes out for surveillance, it updates and randomizes the other scheduled visits so that there is no discernible pattern." Her lips pursed in concentration and her eyes glazed over with a faraway look as she was clearly creating this chart in her mind and working out the mechanisms with frightening quickness.

Fred tilted his head and tapped his chin thoughtfully. "You know, brother, Harrikins and ickle Ronnie warned us."

George smirked, and nodded sagely. "Too right they did. About this very thing, brother."

Hermione's attention had been pulled back to her present surroundings, and she narrowed her eyes at the twins.

"And it's not as if we had no idea, mind," Fred said.

"Oh, no, we were around for most her OWL year, after all," George agreed.

"Sorry to have missed the event itself," Fred mused.

"Truly, brother, but the point remains," George stated.

"Loath as I am to interrupt," Hermione said, voice dripping with sarcasm, "I would love to hear the actual point here, gentlemen."

Fred grinned and wrapped an arm around carelessly around her, and George chuckled. In that eerie unison they managed they said, "You are a bloody brilliant, and bloody scary witch."

Hermione rolled her eyes, and Angelina snorted with laughter. George asked who wanted more wine, and Fred smiled down at his wife, feeling completely content despite the unknown threats looming outside.

-o0o-

_A/N: I swear I've been trying to post this unsuccessfully for about 4 days now! Ugh. I'd apologize, but frankly, you'll have to get in line behind my husband, my family, my pets, my filthy house and several other things. I knew things were going to get crazy at work, since summer is the end of our fiscal year and there are other issues, such as a looming centralization of business staff (read, layoffs are coming. we're 14 months into the original 12-18 month timeline for this 'efficiency' effort). But none of us expected the perfect storm that's actually happened. I've been working 60 hour weeks **and** weekends. In fact, today is the first weekend in awhile I'm not working - only because I am going in during tomorrow's holiday. It's exhausting, frustrating, tiresome and I come home feeling battered and beaten and desirous of not seeing a computer for a few short hours. _

_I do promise that I am not abandoning this or any other fiction. I'm just not able to work on them as much as I'd like at this point in time because of my other obligations. I refuse to throw up something that doesn't meet my standards as filler, and unfortunately, that means more time. I know how frustrating it is to get into a story you like only to have to it drop off suddenly and for updates to come trickling in over a remarkably slow period of time, if at all. It's the hazard of posting pieces in progress, unfortunately. Please know I understand and share the frustration, but until you lot are able to pay all my bills, work and other things have to come first. I do hope everyone is well and enjoys this offering. Cheers._


	21. Chapter 21

_Disclaimer: The characters and their respective backgrounds are not my unique creations, but are borrowed from J.K. Rowling. I'm very appreciative of her willingness to lend them._

-o0o-

Chapter 21

-o0o-

Fred sighed at his workbench, frustrated that the damned potion was continuing to curdle. Normally he loved raw inventing, loved the process of taking an abstract idea and reforming what he knew until he had worked and teased out something different from the original. His knowledge of potions preparations, ingredients, combinations, and how to integrate charms with them was singularly impressive. He and George had once reckoned that their combined knowledge might have even exceeded Snape's; certainly it exceeded most wizard-kind.

That only made it more tiresome when he couldn't quite tweak something to make it work the way he envisioned it. This was this fourth attempt at combining a malleable transfiguration potion with a directive charm. He had several directions for such a product; being able to choose what sort of animal your mate (or enemy) would become was the easiest, but he'd also considered a couple of options for the Wonder Witch line. Hermione had made an off-hand comment the other morning about how glad she was that she'd learned some hair-control charms from Parvati, because she couldn't afford to spend so much money on Sleekeazee's hair taming potion whenever she wanted a look other than frizzy, thick curls. A potion that would allow the witch to set her hair to whatever style she wanted for the day would potentially be an easier alternative. Possibilities were all well and good but none of it mattered if he couldn't make the damned potion work.

The tension was set in his shoulders and he knew it wasn't just this. He and Hermione hadn't fought, not exactly, but there was definitely some tension between them. George, who was working quietly at the other workstation had joked earlier that the honeymoon was definitely over after they'd been in the flat for nine days together now. Fred was worried that joke held more than a bit of the truth. They were doing brilliantly in many areas, but seemed to be butting heads over the loo and the kitchen of all things. Hermione was known to be a neat and orderly person, and all of the time she'd spent at the Burrow and all his interaction with her at Hogwarts and all his experience with her in the shop confirmed it. So why he was surprised to find her tidying things away every day, sometimes two or more times a day, he didn't know.

Hermione, of course, was pleasant enough about it, but it was evident after the fourth time she hung up his towel or banished his lunch dishes to the sink to be washed that she was getting annoyed over it. Fred and George weren't necessarily messy blokes, precisely, but it was true that he wasn't as organized in his personal living space as Hermione was, least not when he was only taking a break from work and heading back down into the shop.

For all that though, he was unpleasantly surprised to find himself feeling a bit territorial when he discovered her in the kitchen actually cooking. Naturally, given that she'd fed him multiple times, he was aware she cooked perfectly well. Fred also knew that she prepared the tea every morning, and had even watched her move about the kitchen. But he wasn't used to it. George rarely ventured into messing about his utensils and moving things because it 'made more logical sense that way' and Fred had apparently come to regard the kitchen as his own area. Relieved as he was not to have to do all the cooking, ceding control to her and bowing to her superior organizational skills hadn't come easily. He frequently found himself biting his tongue and trying to hide sharpness with jokes.

Then there were the moments of awkwardness when George was around in the flat. With Angie there too, it was slightly easier, but George alone was different. They were all aware that the bonds between them had changed; that George would be married too in roughly five weeks did little to ease it. In the workroom, at the Leaky, at the Burrow, they were fine, just like their old selves. But when they were both in the flat, it was like a farce of politeness. George was solicitous of Hermione, but tried not to appear to be acting as a host to her. Hermione, for her part, was trying to make herself feel more comfortable, and at home, but seemed to be unsure how to act with George now she was there full time. It was beginning to irritate Fred.

All day, in fact, he'd walked about in a state of irritability, which is why he'd punted Lee out to help Verity in the front and finally settled to doing some research. He felt that if he could just focus on something or move this forward he'd be more cheerful. Hermione had requested the day off from the shop, to better organize something or other, no doubt; she'd said she was going to be working on the flat. Fred grimaced. He was in no way opposed to her standards of neatness or her organization of their things if it made her happy. He just didn't want to be expected to maintain perfection all the bleeding time. Bad enough downstairs, but they had no choice, given the sometimes volatile mixtures and ingredients they kept on hand. Be nice if he could find a way to make Hermione understand that.

Returning his thoughts glumly to the now thoroughly wasted potion before him, he prodded at it with a glass stirrer, and sighed. George looked up from his work, and then pushed his wheeled stool over to his brother's workstation.

"Gone wrong again?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah, botched it for a fourth time. Seems to work as usual right up until I substitute mockingbird feather for blackbird. The properties are similar, and mockingbird should add the flexibility I need, especially with the fluxweed increase. Both should be stable, which makes me think that it's a preparation issue more than that substitution. Something about the change is altering how it needs to be introduced to the potion and nothing I've tried yet works." Fred crossed his arms and glared balefully at the potion.

George looked thoughtful. "Hmm. You've tried altering your stirring?" Fred nodded. "An extra rotation or anti-clockwise move didn't help?" Fred shook his head, lips pursing in irritation. After all, standard deviations weren't groundbreaking maneuvers. Of course he'd tried them. "Right, what about how you're chopping the fluxweed? Pentagon instead of triangle, maybe?"

"Did it on this batch. Can't alter any of the other preparatory ingredients. I just need it to be stable until I get to the drop of myrhh. I'm certain that would bind the brew enough," Fred said disgustedly.

"Well, it's nearly lunch time. Take a break, go have a good shag and come back refreshed and rejuvenated. And if your wife isn't up for a good shag, then pick her brains. She'll probably be able to figure it out," George said, clapping Fred on the shoulder.

"Sure, if she's done cataloguing every item in the flat like a bloody library," Fred muttered under his breath. George heard him and chuckled. "Right, so we're meeting with the new distributor this afternoon?"

"Yes, at three in the Leaky. And you should be taking Hermione out to dinner soon-ish. A bit of a break from here will do you both good."

Fred merely grunted and pushed himself up and away from the worktable, and began making his way up to the flat, already taking off his work robes. Hermione was not in the great room, but he hung his robes up by the door anyway, rather than throwing them across the back of the chair as he might normally have done. He walked down the corridor and glanced into their bedroom and stopped short.

It was completely changed about from how it had been when he awoke that morning. Fred took three steps into the room to get a better look. The walls, previously a color between beige and cream, were now a sort of teal color. The rugs had gone from brown to a deep brick red, and the warm red and gold coverlet was now the same deep brick red, with a silvery trim. The hangings around the bed were cream colored, with silver trim, echoed in the curtains. There were pillows on the bed (where had they originated?) in the same colors; teal, dark red, cream, silver. It was refreshing, crisp, and sophisticated; the dark-wood furniture he'd already owned looked marvelous against them, and he noticed the hardware had been transfigured into brushed silver as well. But it was so unexpected, all he could do is look around in wonder. How she'd managed this in the span of a morning was beyond him.

"You hate it," came a deflated voice from behind him. He spun around to see Hermione framed in the doorway, biting her lip, eyebrows creased.

"No, it's just not what I expected," he said. To his surprise, her eyes filled with tears. "Hermione? What's wrong, love?" She shook her head, but two tears fell down her cheeks, and he was pulling her close into a hug before she could turn away.

"You hate it. I knew you would," she said with a sob.

"I don't hate it. What on earth are you talking about it? It's brilliant. I can't believe you managed this so quickly."

"You're only trying to make me feel better," she wailed.

Fred look at her in blank confusion. "Mione, sweets, what has gotten into you? Listen, I can't say it any more plainly. I love the bloody bedroom. It's fantastic, lovely, brilliant, nothing like what I was afraid it would be. It's not too feminine, there are no bloody cabbage roses and no Quidditch colors, and George will be green with envy when he sees it. It's not like you to cry, love. Are you feeling well?"

Hermione sniffled some, and looked up at him with watery eyes. "You really don't hate it?"

Fred smiled down at her. "I really, really don't."

"Good. Why are you up here? Do you want to see what I've done to the study?" She pushed away, dried her eyes and was in the corridor before a very confused Fred caught up with her.

"Uh, sure," he said uncertainly.

Hermione swung the door open and said quickly, "It's not finished yet, of course. Nowhere near done with the unpacking. I've got another four boxes of books and we still have that pile of wedding gifts, which can't really be touched until we redo the lounge, but I know I'll be comfortable working in here, and maybe you will too, I hope so."

Fred glanced around the room. The same crisp, refreshing feeling was evident here, though the colors were completely different. The walls were a celery sort of color, and the bookcases Hermione had transfigured from some old furniture were white, as was the window casing, the curtains and the rug. She had transfigured the floor to pale ash wood, and the desk along one wall was ash with a white desktop. The only spot of color besides the walls was the faded brown leather desk chair. It was a surprisingly comfortable room.

"It's gorgeous, Hermione. I should think that you'll be quite comfortable in here. Not sure how all your books will fit though," he said teasingly.

Her eyes flashed dangerously. "Just what is that supposed to mean, Fred?"

Fred's forehead creased again. "Er, that you've already filled three of the five bookshelves and said you've still got four boxes of books to unpack?"

"Oh, right. Of course. So this meets with your approval?" she asked, suddenly frowning.

"Yeah, it's great. Hermione, are you feeling well? Really, you're acting a bit strange."

"I'm perfectly fine, Fred," she said, but her tone was icy, and she stalked down the hallway into the kitchen. "I assume you want some lunch? That is why you aren't working isn't it?"

"Yeah, but I thought I'd fix something for us, you don't need to worry about it," he said quickly.

"More like you don't want me in the kitchen," she said, her back to him.

"What was that, Hermione?" he asked, now on edge. Her behavior was odd and it was uncomfortable that he had no idea what was going on. He didn't think George was stupid enough to give her some sort of mood altering potion for a laugh, but that was the only thing he could come up with to explain her quickly shifting moods.

"Please, Fred, you've made it abundantly clear how little you like me being in the kitchen. Don't deny it," she said heatedly.

"Ok, yeah, it's not something I'm used to. But I'm adjusting to it. Just like I'm getting used to your obsession with organization and cleaning up behind me as if I were a child."

"My obsession? Maybe if you were more neat, I wouldn't have to go tidying up behind you. How hard, really, is it to simply take two more steps and hang your robes up? Or banish your socks to the hamper, for Merlin's sake? It's not even as if you have to do it the Muggle way! You've got a wand!" her voice was raising in pitch and volume.

"Hermione, the world does not end if something isn't put away for five minutes. It's like living in a bloody museum! It is normal for people who live in a place to have occasion to leave something out for a bit. No one is going to be taking pictures for display in _Witch Weekly_, for Merlin's sake!" Now Fred was angry, evidenced by his ears growing red.

They newlywed couple stood facing each other, glaring. Hermione's hands were on her hips, and Fred's arms were crossed defensively over his chest. There is no telling how long the stalemate might have lasted, had George not walked into the flat, whistling, at that moment.

He stopped abruptly, looked back and forth between the pair and spoke slowly. "Right. I think I just walked in on something. I'll, um, try knocking next time. Just be going back down then." He pivoted and would have walked away, had Fred not stopped him.

"No need. We were just talking about lunch. I think I'm going over to the Leaky to pick something up. You want to come?"

Hermione was still glaring at him, but her eyes were glittering again with tears. George opened his mouth, glanced between them and shut it again. Fred turned towards him and raised an eyebrow.

"Er, yeah, a walk sounds good. What can we bring back for you, Hermione?" George asked in a forcedly genial tone of voice.

"I'm not particularly hungry," came her frigid, clipped response.

"Right. Well, I'll just see you downstairs, Fred. And see you later, Hermione." George slipped quickly out the door and his steps quickly faded.

Fred turned back to Hermione, jaw clenched. "Look, Mione, something is clearly upsetting you, and you are not acting normally. I'm sorry if I've upset you, I shouldn't have snapped at you. But you seem to be trying to pick a fight, and I'm not interested in fighting with you right now."

He took three steps towards her. She didn't back away from him, but when he put his arms around her, he found her stiff and unyielding, rekindling his annoyance. Biting back a sigh, he said, "Right. I'll bring you some fish and chips." He placed a kiss on her forehead and then strode out of the flat and clattered down the stairs.

-o0o-

Hermione dashed angry tears from her eyes. She had no idea why she was so wound up, but she was a basket case. It didn't seem to matter what she was doing, she was vacillating between melancholy and annoyed irritation all day. Things had been more tense than not in the flat; oh, tense wasn't the right word. It was just that things had changed when she and Fred had married and she was still feeling out her role here. Knowing George would be gone soon made both of them tiptoe around each other, and they both felt ill at ease; even knowing the feeling was mutual seemed not to diminish it entirely.

And then there was her new status with Fred. She was realizing anew how frightfully short their courtship was, and how overshadowed it had been by the odd events that were happening. Of course Hermione had known Fred for eight years, but she'd never paid much heed to his living style. She'd realized he was neater than she'd originally thought, but his habit of just tossing things about and leaving them where they fell was maddening to her, especially after she'd just straightened the flat. It was a problem she'd likely have had with Ron and Harry on their little adventure, were it not for everything being stowed in her expanded bag. That habit of keeping everything and handing it out when needed likely irritated Fred as much he irritated her.

She had noted his hesitancy with her in the kitchen, but until today it hadn't really bothered her. For the most part, he'd let her into his life and his flat with acceptance, rarely appearing ruffled or perturbed. Her turmoil was more evident, to her embarrassment. But she didn't know what she was to do. Much as she had looked forward to more uninterrupted time with Fred, to living with him, to not having to shuffle back to the Burrow to study each day, she was finding that spending all her time in close proximity to him, to both he and George, really, was a bit suffocating. Much like the Horcrux hunt, except when things got very tense, they could at least go on walkabout or something.

Here in Diagon Alley, she couldn't really just take a stroll if she wanted to clear her head. Hermione felt like she'd been trapped inside the workroom or the flat with little break. And the flat didn't yet feel like home. She didn't move about with the same ease that Angelina did, and while Fred was kind about most things, she didn't know how to tell him she was a bit overwhelmed with the constant presence of people around her. Of course, she'd shared a room with the other girls at Hogwarts, with Ginny at the Burrow, and with Harry and Ron on the hunt. But there was a way to gain some solitude in those situations. If nothing else, she could be alone at the end of the day in her own bed, shutting the world around her out; here, she shared a bed with Fred.

Of course she loved that, and him, but how had she never noticed what a restless sleeper he was? Ginny had been correct, Fred did not snore. However, he did grunt, sigh, toss and turn and frequently awoke Hermione with his nighttime exercises. How many nights had she spent with him before they were married? Just a handful, and most of those interrupted by outside things. Hermione sighed, moving to sit in the lounge. She didn't often, choosing instead to sit in Fred's room. Now the guest room was nearly transformed into her study, and George's room would be made over into a guest room – largely for George on nights Angelina was traveling with the team – but Hermione still didn't feel wholly at ease relaxing on the leather sofa. When Fred was with her, it was better, but mostly, she avoided it.

After a moment, she launched herself up and back to Fr- _their_- bedroom. She was pleased with the changes, and when she had done them, she felt certain Fred would be pleased. But Hermione had watched him looking everything over and had been overcome with the idea it was all clashing and awful and he must hate it. And that thought made her miserable and weepy. Weepy! Over some damned color-charmed walls and pillows. If he'd hated it, she could have altered it in about ten minutes. Oh, how she wished she could find a way to voice her concerns aloud. She simply needed some time to herself, and was afraid to ask for it, lest she seem uncaring or unhappy.

-o0o-

Fred was clearly still angry, but was also clearly doing his best to tamp the anger down. The problem for George is that it manifested itself physically; Fred was walking astonishingly quickly, and George was hard pressed to keep up, despite equally long legs.

"Oi, slow down, mate," he finally called in aggravation. Fred immediately obliged, giving his twin an apologetic half smile. "Thank you. That's better. Now are you going to tell me what is going on, or am I going to have to put veritaserum in your firewhiskey?"

"Hermione was trying to pick a fight, and I was goading her on. Once I realized it, I stopped and came away with you. I don't know what is wrong with her, but she was acting terribly strange, very unlike herself." As they closed the distance to the Leaky Cauldron, Fred summarized the bizarre interaction before George interrupted them.

George frowned in thought, but said nothing for the moment, because they had arrived at the pub and Tom was waiting patiently for their order. That placed, they each bought a firewhiskey and sat in a private booth to wait for the food.

"I don't know what to do," Fred sighed, tossing his drink back in a single long gulp.

George hesitated for a moment, but said, "Angelina gets that way sometimes, too. Maybe it's just, erm, female troubles? You remember how Mum and Ginny could be."

Fred blinked and then groaned. "Merlin, I didn't even think of that. I have no idea. Hermione's taking some sort of muggle medicine that is similar to a contraceptive potion, and I've no idea how it really works. She tried to explain it once, but I got distracted."

"If it works, that would be useful to know. Angelina is looking for alternatives to the potion she's on, since it'll be outlawed once we're married."

"Now how exactly am I supposed to ask her if she's bloody mental because of her monthly cycle? She's all worked up already, which you saw. She'll send those birds of hers pecking after me, or render her muggle potion unnecessary. Too bad I can't simply hand her a bottle of Milladay's Monthly Mender and be done with it."

"It probably wouldn't go over well," George agreed. "Look, just ask her what's wrong. Easiest place to start."

"I tried that. She said nothing was wrong."

"Well, obviously something is wrong," George said.

"No shite, George, all this time I was thinking things were peachy," Fred said bitingly. They were disrupted by Tom's barmaid bringing over a bag containing their order, charmed to keep warm. George finished his drink and they strode out again.

"Ok, that wasn't the brightest thing I've ever said. No need to bite my head off. Look, I'll eat in the workroom with Lee, I wanted to keep working anyway. Verity can take off once we're done, we'll mind the shop. You can surely find a way to get her to talk to you. Just keep calm and don't let it become a fight."

"Right," Fred muttered. "You've always been so good at that in the past. Just that easy, is it?"

"No, but give it a go anyhow. She's probably cooled down some by now. If not, well, guess you can eat with us downstairs." George gave him a cheerful grin, and Fred rolled his eyes as they entered their shop.

-o0o-

Hermione was still sitting uncomfortably on leather sofa when Fred came back through. He looked cautiously at her, and she immediately felt badly for how she had behaved earlier. Fred walked into the lounge and set the food before her on the coffee table.

"Fish and chips, as promised. Unless you'd rather Yorkshire pudding. I'm not feeling picky."

"Fish and chips are fine," she said in a near whisper. Fred put his hands in his pockets and studied her for a moment.

"Look, I'm sorry about earlier. I shouldn't have shouted or gotten defensive. The flat has been immaculate thanks to you and it's really pleasant to come up at the end of the day and know it's neat and not have to do anything. I'm not as neat as you, Hermione, but I will try harder to stow things where they go as I go along, yeah?"

Hermione nodded and sniffled a little, not looking up at Fred.

"Right, then. I'd like to eat with you, but if you'd rather, I'll go downstairs."

"You can stay," she said quietly. Fred sat down, in the armchair perpendicular to Hermione's seat, summoned a fork, and opened his carton of food. Hermione watched him eat for a moment or two and then picked up her own carton. Fred watched, but she ate only a few bites of fish and two chips, before simply pushing the food about and finally setting it aside.

"Do you want to talk about what is bothering you?" he asked gently.

"I don't know," she responded.

"I don't mean to be presumptuous or anything, but is it, er . . . well, you know. Um, female problems?" he asked hesitantly.

Hermione's head snapped up and her eyes narrowed. "Female problems? I beg your pardon?"

Fred knew instantly that he ought not to have said anything. "Er, it's only that you seem to be having some mood swings, and I know Mum and Ginny could be that way when they were expecting their, um. . ."

Now, despite her flash of anger and the dismissal of whatever she might be feeling as 'female problems,' her lips twitched. Fred seemed to be floundering in trying to find a way to discuss her menstrual cycle. "Their what, precisely, Fred?"

"Their, er, monthly visitors," he said, his ears turning red.

"Their periods?" she said, mirth and anger battling in her.

"Yeah. Is that the problem?" he asked with dogged persistance.

"My period isn't due for another week, Fred. If you want to know, apart from asking, you can look at my birth control pills. The green ones are the non-active pills. When I'm done with those, I have my period and start a new package of pills. Regardless of whether or not I'm expecting my period, it's exceptionally rude to dismiss anything I'm feeling as female problems. That is a poor excuse that allows you to ignore me, and I don't appreciate it." Her voice was crisp, but nowhere near as icy as it had been earlier.

"Well, I'm sorry, Hermione, I'm not trying to be dismissive, but you won't tell me why you've been snapping at me or sobbing on me when neither is particularly like you, so I'm left trying to puzzle it out. Seemed a logical enough explanation. If it's not hormonal issues, then, what, please please tell me, is bothering you so much?" Fred's voice was exasperated.

"I don't know!" Hermione responded, in a volume louder than her normal volume. "I'm having a difficult time adjusting, I suppose. I hate it. It's so easy for you, but I'm having a harder time and I feel awful about it. It's not that I don't love you, or want to be married to you, because I do. But ever since we got back from the honeymoon, things feel different."

Fred put down his food and leaned towards her, startled by her words, but grateful that she was finally opening up to him. "Different how?"

"I didn't have a problem being around George previously, but now I feel like I'm stepping around him. I feel strange sometimes, being here. It doesn't feel like home, but I spend all my time here now. All my time – I'm almost never alone anymore. Even if I stay up here to revise or something, you lot are just downstairs and can come through anytime. Before, when I was at Hogwarts, at least I could be alone at night, and here I share a bed with you. And I like that, I don't want you to think I don't, but you move about and toss around and it's distracting. I can't just go for a walk or anything because it's not safe and I feel so cooped up here." Tears were building in her eyes, to her immense annoyance, the pressure behind her nose making her head hurt.

"And I don't know what else to do to contribute, so I clean and clean and then you just throw your things around and it feels like you don't notice or care how hard I've been trying," Hermione continued on quickly. "And you don't want me in the kitchen, and I know it made you angry when I reorganized the kitchen, which I didn't mean to do. I just feel as if I can't do anything right here, and I hate that it feels so hard, because it seems so easy for you, and I'm afraid that means that I don't love you enough or something, because I ought to just be happy to be with you." She spoke the last in a rush, as if she were afraid to say them aloud, and looked afraid when she had said them.

Fred felt a wave of shock and sympathy. No wonder she'd been upset, letting this build up inside her for two weeks. Of course adjustments were difficult, but he'd felt largely the same way. It was just like anything else, wasn't it? Growing pains while you figure out the new role you were in; took some time, but they'd get it eventually. Fred felt rather bad for not paying better attention, not seeing her distress. Nothing to be done now, except try to reassure her. So he moved to sit beside her on the divan and pull her into the full, warm embrace that was so comforting and reassuring to her.

"Sweet heart, I'm sorry you're feeling so out of place and out of sorts. It certainly doesn't mean you don't love me enough. That's utter rubbish. It's just a harder transition for you, Hermione. I'm still going to the same job every day, still sleeping in the same room, in the same bed. It's different, because you are here with me full time, but it's not as big a change for me." He smoothed her hair and rocked her slightly.

"If you need some time alone, Hermione, all you need to do is ask. I'll walk you to the Leaky so you can go over into Muggle London and have a wander through if it'll help. You can pop over to the Burrow to sit by the pond, or over to Shell Cottage for a walk on the beach. No one will think badly about that. I don't mind so much, but it's only because this is normal for me. Doesn't make anything wrong for you, love."

"I'm sorry I'm such mess," she said softly. "I know the housekeeping drives you spare."

"We never have really talked about it, have we? Perhaps we need to do, so we aren't driving each other insane. Or maybe just figure out how to discuss it like mature adults when we are going spare," Fred said thoughtfully.

Hermione wiped her eyes. "Or maybe I just should just send a stinging hex your way repeatedly until the learned behavior sets in. Works on lab rats, anyway."

"What is a lab rat?" Fred asked with confusion, and Hermione gave a watery chuckle, and rested her head against his chest.

"Muggle scientists conduct some experiments by using rats in their laboratories. They've learned a lot about how to affect behavior with positive and negative reinforcements."

"I'm not sure I follow," Fred said.

"Well, for instance, they might have a rat going through a maze. A positive reinforcement would be providing cheese at certain points when the rat goes the right way to get through the maze. A negative reinforcement would be the rat being zapped with a shock of electricity when the rat chooses the wrong path."

"And you think I'm like a rat?" Fred asked, sounding wounded.

"Of course not," Hermione replied, sounding amused. "I'm simply thinking about the best means of encouraging you to do what I want."

"Well if that's all then," Fred said comfortably, leaning forward to retrieve her lunch. "I'll happily be your willing slave tonight, but you have to eat now to have strength for later."

"You're only saying that because you've got some kinky fantasy you want to try out and you know I won't agree when George is sleeping over."

"No, I'm saying it because you need to eat more than a few bites. And so do I. And darling, if you want to be the willing slave tonight, I won't say no," Fred said in a completely serious voice.

"Prat," Hermione said, but with affection glowing in her eyes. She ate more, as Fred urged her to do, and felt significantly better than she had done earlier. Once a bit more sated, she finally thought to ask, "How was your morning?"

Fred grimaced. "Not great. The potion continues to curdle on me after I add the mockingbird feathers. Nothing I've tried yet has worked."

"You increased the fluxweed, correct?" Hermione asked, thinking back over their previous discussions.

"Yes, but it shouldn't interfere with the mockingbird feathers. The properties are similar."

"Similar, but not identical. Why not add a jabberknoll feather with the mockingbird feathers? It'll be rendered null by the excess fluxweed, but may diffuse the essences of the mockingbird feathers long enough to get you to the binding ingredient. Especially if you add an anti-clockwise stir after the addition."

Fred wore a look of concentration few ever saw or would believe him capable of as he mentally reviewed her suggestions for immediate problems. There were none. In theory, it made perfect sense. If nothing else, it was worth trying, he felt.

"I'll give it a go then. You know, love, I really do love the bedroom. You've got a knack for decorating. What are you thinking of for out here?"

She shrugged a bit. "I wasn't thinking of changing much. I like the wall color, it's very warm. It's just a bit too masculine. I'll probably add some blue in here, maybe some green as well. And some red for balance." She shrugged some.

"Why don't you work on that this afternoon then? And come down with us to the Leaky? We're meeting a distributor at three, one of our little side projects. You could go have some time in Flourish and Blotts or go over to Muggle London or something. Just have a break for a bit. You're right, you've been too cooped up here. George even suggested that today."

"Maybe . . . I haven't spent enough time on revision today though," she said with a sigh.

Fred laughed. "Hermione, you've already read the books forwards and backwards, you write with Minerva and Neville every week, you revise nearly every day for hours. I think a small break is warranted."

"All right, all right. But you definitely have to be the slave tonight."

"There's my cheeky girl," Fred said with a laugh.

-o0o-

_A/N: I've not had much time to work on this, but am hoping for a break in the madness for a bit this weekend. This is a chapter I personally enjoyed and am pleased with. I know I went through something similar to Hermione shortly after I was married, and how relieved I was to find many of my friends felt likewise. Despite my husband spending nearly every weekend with me before he moved in, I remember how shocked I was by some of his habits or how they grated on me (and no doubt vice versa) when we were together all the time. And even though we only lived together for a few months before we married (we had a two and a half year long engagement, so a bit longer than Hermione's), I think the transition was eased by having the shock of living arrangements out of the way already. Adjusting to what 'wife' and 'husband' mean in the context of your own relationship as it actually exists and apart from what you expected based on your relatives, friends or books and movies can be hard enough on its own!_

_Beyon that, I wanted to take a moment to say that I am so pleased to read all of the lovely and thoughtful reviews that have been sent – thank you for letting me know that you are reading and what you like about this story. I've been chuffed to receive some very interesting speculation from some of you about who may be behind all the shady goings-on happening in the background, and I would love to hear what more of you think (or if any of you have had a change of opinion since you reviewed!). Updates may be slow for awhile, but I do continue to work on this, never fear. Hope everyone is well. Cheers!_


	22. Chapter 22

_Disclaimer: The story is mine, the rest is not. But it would be nice if it were. Ah, well._

-o0o-

Chapter 22

-o0o-

As November moved on, Hermione found herself feeling gradually more settled. The fact that Fred remained steady, remained himself, was probably the biggest factor; a part of Hermione she had resolutely ignored before had begun worrying her that Fred would change as time went on, that he would want her to be more like his mum. That wasn't so though, not really, to her relief, and she was doing better, establishing a routine that worked for her. She got up early, made herself tea while the twins slept, and simply enjoyed having the flat to herself with no distraction for a time. Not for too long though; she could feel herself becoming uneasy the longer she was left with her thoughts. Still, the respite in the morning was welcome.

Once Fred was up, one of them would cook breakfast; they alternated. That would generally wake up George, and Hermione cleaned up the kitchen as the brothers dressed for work. Hermione took some of the morning to study, coming down to the shop later in the day, and assisting with whatever they most needed. George was after her to try her own hand at development, but she had so far demurred. The trio traded lunch responsibilities, though it was nearly always take away when it came to George's turn. Afternoons saw Hermione working if there was stock to replenish, or otherwise working on her charts and timelines for the Order. Evenings had been busy, having people over or going out for Order purposes or visiting the Burrow or Grimmauld Place. Truth be told, she was very much looking forward to tonight's quiet evening alone with Fred. George and Lee were planning to attend Angie's match against Montrose, and stay over at Angie's flat; it was the first evening they'd had entirely to themselves without George over.

But now, Hermione was stretched out in the living room, reading a novel. The water was already on the stove to boil for tea, and she had settled into the familiar story when an amused chuckle sounded behind her. Hermione started, but exhaled as she recognized Fred, setting down the book to smile at her husband just as the kettle began singing.

"You going to start the tea this morning then?" He shrugged good-naturedly and silenced the kettle before it could wake George, and began the ritual with the special tea Hermione had laid out.

"Good morning, love. Enjoying a good book then?" he teased.

"Yes, I feel quite good, actually. What's got you up so early then?" she asked pleasantly.

"Bed was cold and lonely," Fred said, turning to her and looping a long arm around her shoulders.

"Oh, poor neglected you," Hermione laughed, snuggling into him for a moment.

"You've no idea the torture of that," he responded with mock-indignation. "You mock my pain!"

That only made Hermione laugh harder. "Oh, Fred, we've got to find a way to make muggle electronics run off of magic. There's a video I know you would simply love, and I can't think of any good way to get you to see it!"

Fred's face suddenly wore the intense, probing look he got during inventing. "You know, I don't know much about them, and I do know Dad's looked into that line of thought, but it just occurred to me he may've been going about it wrong."

"Oh?" Hermione asked, eyebrow raised. "I'll make cinnamon scones if you'll get out of the way, dear. Tell me more about how your dad went about it."

Fred obligingly poured himself a cup of tea and moved to the table. "Well, it was what you said just then, trying to make the electronics run off magic. But what if you kept them running off of electricity? Then they'd work?"

Hermione summoned the ingredients for scones and began measuring them out automatically, frowning as she considered his words. "Well, there is some thought that magic interferes with the electromagnetic components, but that doesn't matter if you can't get them to run at all. Since it seems unlikely that the Ministry will be contracting to have coaxial cables and power lines running through the Alley, I presume you've another way to generate electricity?"

Fred nodded, leaning forward. "Why not simply use magic to do so? Then it's not interfering with the device, is it?"

Hermione, who had been mixing, stopped suddenly, her mouth dropping open. "That's . . . I . . . that's bloody brilliant, Fred! If you can get it to work. Now why has no one thought of that before? Goodness, you can use potatoes to power a lightbulb and there are other ways of harnessing energy, and magic ought to be able to keep those running."

"You know something about electricity then? And why potatoes? Why not rutabagas or courgettes?" Fred asked with a frown.

Hermione chuckled. "It's to do with the chemical property, lemon works as well. Not that one would use vegetables for something more powerful than a lightbulb, but the idea of using magic to generate power and utilizing that is ingenious. It's almost so simple I can't believe that no one has thought of it before. Surely there have been experiments in that direction," she said, returning to her mixing.

Fred looked thoughtful as he began pouring out the tea. "I dunno, not necessarily. I mean, muggles have only had electricity for what? A century or so? The things they've come up with since are fast and impressive, but wizards haven't necessarily had much time or incentive to make things work. Muggleborns may have some, but for the most part, what do muggles have that wizards don't have or absolutely need?"

"True enough that you can create light and your books and pictures move and such, but there is a whole world of imagination that is lost on wizards because you don't have television or movies or even theatre, really, which has existed in the muggle world for millenia. I'll have to take you to the cinema, so you can see what I mean."

Fred shrugged. "Sure, if you like. I don't think I've ever realized the appeal, but I'll give it a go. To be honest, I'm more interested in pursuing this electricity thing. While there are spells that can replicate many things and sometimes do it better, there has got to be a market for electric devices in the wizard world, either for muggleborns or mixed magical families, or even as novelty items. And if we can make it work, then that opens a whole new line of practical jokes, I would imagine. Which doesn't even touch on the patents if you're the first to create it." There was an enthusiasm in his voice and a gleam in his eye that made Hermione grin at him.

"Well, you're the first as it was your idea," she said, putting the scones into the oven to bake, and beginning to clear the counter.

"My concept, but you're going to be doing the bulk of the research. You're the one with the better research skills and greater understanding. I'll have Percy do a search to see what is out there already, find out whether we're wasting our time or not. I'd ask Dad, he's the one what helped us with some of our other patents, but it would make him too excited, I think."

"Dad be excited about what?" came George's grumpy voice, still hoarse with the disuse of sleep.

"Gred, we've had a brainwave. You won't believe this," Fred said with cheerfulness, going on to explain how they'd arrived at the idea, as George awoke over his morning tea.

"That's pretty brilliant, I admit. Well, I'll be interested in seeing the practical applications if you can get it going in a usable format, but that'll have to be your project, kiddies. I've got my hands full and we're going to be getting a new wave of orders in for Wonder Witch products to be stocked for Christmas if my sources are right," he said.

Fred waived a hand airily. "Not a problem, between the three of us, we can get that going easily enough. You think it's worth investing some time in?"

George considered as Hermione removed the scones from the oven and cast a light cooling charm over them and began levitating breakfast to the table. "I have to assume someone has looked into already and found it unwieldy or cumbersome, but that's not insurmountable. I think it's quite a good idea, even if it only ends up as a small novelty item. Most wizards aren't used to electricity."

Before they could delve further into discussion, the floo activated, sending all three of them grabbing for their wands and spinning to face the fireplace; no one was expected that early in the morning. A tense ten seconds passed before Ron stumbled out of the floo. He stood there, looking at them blankly as they stared at him.

"Bloody buggering hell, Ron!" George finally said irritably. "Bit early for a social call, don't you think?"

"Ron, is something wrong? Did something happen?" Hermione asked, seeing the blank look on his face, beginning to feel worried.

Slowly, Ron shook his head, a frown appearing, looking as if he'd just woken up. "That was weird. I have no idea what I'm doing here. I thought I was going back to the Burrow, but I must've been thinking of here instead."

The twins exchanged a baffled look, then a sly grin. "So you didn't spend the night at home, eh?"

Ron blushed brilliantly. "Er, no, I was over at Daph's. I should, er, Mum, y'know."

Hermione seemed to be pressing her lips together in an effort not to laugh at Ron's embarrassment and confusion. Fred took pity on his little brother and slung an arm round his shoulders.

"Right, Ronnikins. Well, I'm sure Daphne's charms are befuddling, but you'd better stop and eat here, so if Mum is feeling shrieky, you can tell her you slept on the couch, yeah? Hermione's made scones."

"Really?" Ron brightened, and Hermione poured out another cup of tea. This was promising to be an interesting sort of day.

-o0o-

Hermione quickly straightened up after lunch, waving off George's offer to help. There was something nagging her, and she couldn't quite place the worry, though if she were honest with herself, she could feel it cropping up more often when she was alone. She knew from experience that trying to force the thought out would only frustrate her, so she decided to keep busy and not think about it consciously. So Hermione did the dishes by hand and slowly began straightening the lounge. It didn't take long as they kept things in good order. She sat for a moment on the divan, frowning, but nothing came to her except the feeling that she was missing something important.

Giving it up as a bad job, she went to her study. She felt a bit guilty calling it that, as Fred made a point to work on ledgers there on occasion, but for all intents and purposes, it was her room. The charts she'd made in sifting through the surveillance reports were stored here, and she felt compelled to take them out and look over them. There was nothing to add or to change, but she temporarily stuck them over the bookcases so she could study them more closely.

Settling into the brown leather chair, which was far more comfortable than it looked, Hermione looked over the reports, scanning them, not really trying to absorb the information. After all, she knew it backwards and forwards, having compiled most of it. No, there was nothing obvious in it, or Percy and Ron, or even Fred or George, would have seen it already. They'd already outlined the evident threads and Ron was piecing a few things together. Her eyes roamed over the snippets of dates, times, names, locations and she let go of conscious thoughts, simply observing. Something was floating up, something tied to location, since she continued to come back to that list, but before she could refocus on that, there was a sudden tingling in her body that distracted her, making her frown.

Sighing, she cocked her head and looked at the list once more, before pulling the charts down and stacking them neatly back in their place. Studying wouldn't work as she had hoped, not since she'd been distracted. Desiring something more physical, she trooped downstairs to the workshop, deciding there had to be something she could brew or construct.

George was at his worktable, and he smiled up at her, which she returned. "Where did Fred go?" she asked, without thinking about it.

George raised an eyebrow in surprise that she should know he was gone. "Popped off up to Hogsmeade to check in on the apothecary; we're out of ashwinder eggs. Also need some fresh lavender, which Pomona grows in greenhouse three for us for a small price. He didn't say anything because he expects to be back soon."

"Oh, it's fine, I just realized he was gone, wondered where. I need something to do that will let me think. Anything you want brewed or baked?"

George looked thoughtful. "Spot vanisher's good for that, and we can never have too much. Popular line, those Wonder Witch products. We really ought to start contracting it and increasing the volume. Have you done that brew before?"

Hermione nodded, and began summoning the ingredients she needed. George was right, this was a steady, mindless sort of brew. She chopped and scraped, juiced and mashed, measured and boiled, and while it appeared her attention was on the potion brewing before her, in reality, her mind was churning around the idea of location, and proximity. The word startled her, almost to the point of adding too much bilberry juice. Proximity? To what? To whom was an easy question, to the Weasleys, of course, but -

"Oh!" came her startled exclamation. "Of course. Of course."

"Hermione?" George's concerned voice floated over her, but she flapped a hand in his direction and stared intently at the bubbling yellow brew before her.

Proximity to the Weasleys, proximity to the properties and occasions, proximity to security. The question was who had had access to all of these things. She thought furiously, not seeing the yellow potion turning orange before her.

"Hermione! Oi!" She heard George's voice, but didn't register the warning note in it, being too focused on the new direction of her thoughts.

"Oh, no," Hermione whispered, her excitement sinking under the short list of names she was able to quickly think of. She could hear George more urgently trying to get her attention, and half-turned towards him when there was a sudden explosion and she shrieked as the boiling potion was flung over her.

"Shit shit shit," George said over and over, as he pulled her away from the still-spitting cauldron. He canceled the flame underneath it. "Right, hang on, just a mo, let me render that a bit more stable," he babbled to Hermione, who was whimpering from the pain of the scalding potion. George quickly summoned a canister of flour, and added it to the hissing, bubbling potion. It was strange, but plain flour seemed to deactivate many of the more reactive magical potions and ingredients. That done, he turned his attention to Hermione, who was covered in the half-brewed potion and clearly in pain.

He opened his mouth to ask what stage she had been at, so he would know how to best remove the potion without causing more damage, when the door to the workroom was flung open and a frantic looking Fred appeared.

"What the bloody hell happened? Mione, love, are you all right?" He pushed his brother aside, but George stopped him from wiping off the potion.

"Wait, it's a botched potion. Hermione, had you added the bilberry juice?" he asked, his voice urgent. She nodded, still making a whimpering sound. "Right, ok, I know it hurts, but we can't just vanish it or you're going to be a lot more pain as it takes half your skin with it. I'm going to pop upstairs and get a special solution, and then we'll get it off and get you fixed up. Don't talk though, you don't want to ingest that stuff."

Fred, feeling at a loss, gently cupped the cheek that had been turned away from the cauldron when it exploded, ran his thumb lightly over her cheekbone. Good as his word, George was back in a matter of seconds, a washcloth and a bottle of murky blue solution in his hands. He poured the solution onto the washcloth and handed it to Fred. As gently as he could, Fred began wiping the potion off of Hermione's face. The skin beneath was an angry red, blistered in a couple of places, but the blue solution helped to remove the potion from her face and hands.

"What happened?" he asked, while George searched for their specially made burn paste and some sticking plaster.

"I was being stupid," Hermione said ruefully. "I got lost in my thoughts and stopped paying attention. I assume I forgot to turn the heat down after adding the bilberry juice?"

"Yeah, it's generally an easy enough potion, but that's the crucial step. I tried to warn you when I heard it popping, but you were concentrating pretty hard," George said, somewhat apologetically. "Here. Put this on, and bandage it up. Needs to be left on for six hours, but then you'll be good as new. I'm sorry, Hermione, I should've asked you to do something else."

"No, it was entirely my fault. I wasn't paying attention," she sighed, then bit back a whimper as Fred began dabbing on the orange paste.

"Sorry," he whispered. He looked scared, and pained. After looking at his twin's pale face for a moment, George squeezed Hermione's shoulder and stepped out of the workroom. Fred finished the paste and applied the bandages and already, Hermione was feeling worlds better. The heat had dissipated and the paste was soothing and cool as it worked to heal the burns. She gave Fred a small, pained smile, and he pulled her into his arms, and hugged her painfully close.

"Gods, I was so worried about you," he said, resting his cheek on the crown of her head.

"Wait," Hermione said, sounding puzzled. "Fred, how did you know I was hurt?"

Fred looked confused. "I'm not sure. I just had this tingling feeling out of nowhere, and then a massive sense of dread, and I just apparated back here in a flash."

"That's so odd. But – actually I had the same sort of feeling when you left today. I didn't even think about it, but I knew you'd gone, quite a distance. I asked George about it when I came down. Ugh. I can't believe I was so stupid."

"I'm just glad it was only your cheek. But you know you need to be careful when you're brewing, love. You usually are, what on earth were you thinking so hard about? My amazing physique?"

That forced a snort of laughter from Hermione, but she sobered up quickly enough. "No, god-like as it is, I was thinking about the Order business. Something is bothering me about who had access to various people and places. I'm thinking the list is a lot shorter than I would like for it to be."

Fred's eyes narrowed. "What d'you mean?"

"I mean that I need to think about things a bit longer. I'm not entirely sure. I had a train of thought, but it was rather sidetracked by the explosion," she answered wryly.

Fred's arms tightened around her protectively. "Right. Well put it out of your mind. I want you to rest, so you can be in top shape for tonight. I've got loads of plans for you." He kissed her forehead gently and then pushed her lightly to the stairs. "I've got to go back to Hogsmeade and pick up the order. I was waiting for it when this happened, and rushed back. I'll come check on you when I get back." Hermione disappeared up the stairs with no argument, and Fred sighed as he surveyed the mess of a workstation before him.

George stuck his head round the door a moment later. "Oh good, I was afraid I would need the darkness powder to prevent anyone from seeing anything untoward." He wagged his eyebrows suggestively at Fred, who rolled his eyes. "She all right?"

Fred nodded. "She will be. It's very unusual for her to be so careless, but she hasn't said much about what she was thinking about."

"She didn't discuss it with me, just said she needed something to do. She was doing fine, and then I saw her staring at the cauldron, and exclaiming over something. Then her face fell, but by that point, the flame was far too high and I could see it had curdled and was expanding and hissing. I only just got her attention in time for her to turn my way." George shook his head.

"Said it was something to with access to people and locations. Good thinking with the neutralizing solution. It hadn't occurred to me. Is it safe enough to vanish on here though?"

"Well, you were a bit distracted at the time. Quite a hero's entrance, there, Forge. And yes, it doesn't matter on inanimate objects, it won't stick," George said mildly.

"I know, it's odd. I can't explain it, George, and don't want to. I could just feel it. Anyway, I've got to go back to Hogsmeade and finish up there." Fred finished vanishing the potion and was gone within five minutes, a frown on his face.

George wondered what exactly was going on, but knew he was unlikely to find out, so he shrugged and returned to his project.

-o0o-

Hermione was fine with resting; the burns had blistered and were painful, though the twin's miraculous burn paste helped tremendously. However, her mind was spinning too quickly for her to even consider a nap. In the end, after moving restlessly around the flat, from chair to chair, she finally gave up in exasperation and filled the bathtub for a swim. A wave of her wand in transfiguration work and she was suitably attired in a bathing costume and an impervious charm protected the bandages and her hair and she was floating and thinking.

There were only a small number of people who had access to get inside the wards. Hermione had wondered before if the wards had been deliberately triggered in order to call their attention to them and send panic through the ranks. The thought she had found most disturbing was that the most malevolent event had been the one with the least fanfare, and was the most difficult to explain, precisely because the wards had been in place.

What was bothering Hermione now was remembering that her father had been a devotee of Sherlock Holmes. Personally, Hermione had always found the character stuffy and disgustingly assured of his own superiority but she was ruefully acknowledging now that if Holmes had been real and were presently trying to unlock this mystery, he'd have every right to be scornful.

No one had ever accounted for the Weasley family or their friends. They had been so focused on the impossibility of breaking the wards, they had never seriously considered that there was one breach already; the twins had given floo access to their entire family and to a handful of other people as well. Why focus on trying to discern how the wards were breached if they weren't?

It was a terribly unpleasant thought, really, and something Hermione could hardly credit. None of the Weasleys were dark wizards, all were sworn members of the Order of the Phoenix, and working together avidly to discover what was happening and ensure their own safety. And yet, now that she had brought the thought into consciousness, she couldn't escape the reality that it was possible, and refusing to consider it would be reckless.

She sighed. Hermione had absolutely no idea how she was going to explain to her husband that she was beginning to suspect someone in his family may be involved in the shadowy threats that had bothered them for a weeks.

-o0o-

Fred liked to think he was a patient and understanding husband, but truth be told, he was beginning to be annoyed. He had been looking forward to this evening alone for awhile now, and had planned a romantic night for Hermione. But she was clearly not present, her eyes glazed over in thought, her attention elsewhere.

"Hermione, would you like a chocolate covered dirigble plum for dessert?" he finally asked in exasperation.

"Hmm? Yes, sounds lovely. The meal was terrific, Fred," she said, blinking and looking at him.

"You do realize I just offered you an inedible, highly valuable potion ingredient for dessert, don't you?" he said, a shade crossly.

"Oh dear," she sighed, a bit inadequately. "I'm sorry. You really did make a lovely dinner, and I've just sort of ruined it, haven't I?"

"I am a bit curious about what is on your mind. You've been distracted since breakfast, to the point of botching a potion you could do in your sleep most days. What is bothering you?"

Hermione hesitated. "I'm afraid to tell you. You won't like it. But I've gone over and over it and I can't see any way around it."

"What, Hermione? This clearly has some significance, and I'm starting to worry, frankly," Fred said, leaning back expectantly, arms crossed.

"There is something that ought to have been obvious to us, but that none of us ever followed up on," she said.

"In relation to what?"

"The ward breaches and threats," she said, nervously twisting her wedding rings around her finger.

"I'm all ears, Mione," he said.

"Who had access to all of the places or events tied to us?" was all Hermione asked, looking directly at him, hoping she wouldn't have to say the words aloud.

Fred's quick mind didn't let her down. "That's . . . no, that makes no sense, Hermione. None. Why set off the wards if you don't have to breach them?"

"I've thought for awhile that the ward breaches were just for show, just a way of making us nervous, setting us on edge, letting us know that there are people out there who think they can get to us. And the wards weren't set off for that box. None of us have ever figured that one out, and there is a simple solution to it."

Fred's face darkened. "Are you really trying to tell me that my family – your family too – are somehow responsible for this nonsense?"

Hermione sighed, and placed a hand over his arm. "I knew you wouldn't like it. And no, I'm not saying that I believe them to be responsible on their own. No one in your family would willingly harm another member of it. But there are other ways, and you know that too."

Fred's face went slack. "You're right. _Imperius, obliviate_, suggestibility potions. Fuck. Hadn't considered that at all."

"It's not terribly pleasant, is it?" Hermione said slowly. "I think it would be a good idea for you to come up with a list of anyone who has had access to the flat via floo before the Fidelius went up. And maybe we ought to consider changing the floo password again now. If someone is being controlled who has access, we've told them the secret."

"But why? Why any of this? We've come back to it again and again and still haven't got an answer," Fred fumed.

"I don't know, Fred," Hermione said, her voice tired. "But it seems to center around you, or us maybe. I would have thought Harry the most likely candidate, if it's the result of remaining Death Eater unrest. He's the one who killed their Dark Lord, after all."

"What else could it be? That would involve George and I, anyway? There's really no rival joke shop except Zonko's and he's planning retirement anyway. It seems to me, it has to be Voldemort sympathizers," Fred said speculatively.

"Which only brings us back round again to the same problem we've bashed about for weeks. It's doing my head in, Fred. I can't seem to stop thinking about it, and wondering what happens next. Things are escalating and it's been almost too long since that box was left in the shop. I can't shake this feeling that something is going to happen," she said fretfully.

Fred reached out and took both her hands in his. "I know what you mean. That constant threat of tension, just like before. It's a little unnerving. But we do know that most of the Death Eaters are dead or in confinement, and that Voldemort is gone. Even if we're being threatened now, it's not like it was before. We've taken the precautions we need to take and we're doing the best we can to figure it out. We'll sit down tomorrow – yes, Hermione, tomorrow – and go over all the possibilities, no matter how little I like them. But for tonight, let it go, yeah? It'll be awhile before we're alone again, I'd like to take advantage."

Hermione gave a little sigh, then a half smile. "What's for dessert then?"

"Aha. I know it's not quite the season, but I thought that you'd like strawberries with lemon curd. Unless chocolate-covered dirigible plum really appeals to you, that is."

Hermione chuckled. "Er, no. Lemon curd sounds much more edible."

Fred stood up to retrieve the dessert. "Coffee? Tea?"

"Coffee, yes. Thank you. Lounge?" Hermione asked. "I'll clean up the dishes."

"All right," Fred agreed, and they worked side by side peacefully before carrying the last of their meal to coffee table and curling up on the divan.

They ate in relative quiet, though Hermione was effusive in her appreciation of the dessert. Hermione was reminded of the first time they'd sat like this, barely a few weeks before and how very differently she felt now. A cordial relationship was the most she'd hoped for, and the hope that sex wouldn't be too embarrassing or awkward, given the necessity of engaging in it regularly. And somehow, instead, she had ended up . . . happy. In every sense of the word.

Hermione set her cup down and played with her wedding rings, watching them shimmer and sparkle in the firelight. She could wear her engagement ring with the wedding bands, but often preferred not to, she'd formed a habit of twisting the rings on her finger that she seemed barely conscious of. Fred said nothing, just watched her quietly, a small smile tugging at his lips. Hermione turned her attention from her wedding bands to her engagement ring, currently on her right hand, turning her finger slowly to and fro, watching the light race through the stone, refracting and twinkling. It was entrancing, and she felt herself relax, a tension unwind, as she played with her rings.

Fred's voice broke into her thoughts. "Open book?" She nodded her agreement. "Tell me one of your fantasies."

Hermione's eyes crinkled and she said in a dreamy sort of voice, "Mmmm. Well, it starts off with you in the kitchen."

"Oh yes?" Fred said, leaning in a bit.

"Yes. You look really gorgeous and fit. I'm standing by the door, you don't see me."

"Go on," Fred said, looking a little intrigued.

"Well, stop interrupting me then! You're in the kitchen, and you don't realize I'm there, watching you. But I am watching. You do this thing, it's so incredibly sexy."

"What's that?" Fred said, his voice a bit lower than usual, his eyes smoldering.

"The dishes. You're there doing the dishes, without being asked. Mmmm, Fred, you have no idea how much I fantasize about that. And now, look, you are straightening the lounge. . ." Hermione dissolved into giggles as Fred gave her a dirty look, and then leaned forward to tickle her as punishment. Once she had given in, proclaiming Fred the King of Practical Jokers, he stopped tickling her and gave him an apologetic look.

"Sorry, it was just too easy," she said, showing little remorse.

"Hmph. That's not how you answer those questions, Hermione," he said, but his tone was amused.

"Fine, fine. It's embarrassing though, to just talk about it," she said.

"Even to me?" Fred asked. "You know I can't make it come true if I don't know what it is you are interested in trying."

"I know, but yes, even to you. I guess I'd rather hear one of yours first," Hermione said.

"Yeah, all right, but you don't get out of answering it," he said warningly. "Budge up over here, love." Hermione slid down the couch so that Fred could wrap a long arm around her. His fingers trailed idly over her shoulder and upper arm, raising gooseflesh and her awareness of his close proximity. She found was quite curious to hear what he had to say.

"Right, so there is one I'd like to try with you sometime. It's a terrible cliché of course, but you did make quite an impression that year. I'd love to see you back in your old Hogwarts robe, with that prefects badge of yours. You were bossing us about, threatening to send us to detention, driving us absolutely crazy." Hermione blushed, making Fred laugh before he nuzzled at her neck. "Yes, well in my fantasy, you are running late from curfew, and you don't have any good excuse. Filch is coming, and you run smack into me, dashing and debonair naturally, the rake of the school, if you will."

"Yes, yes, I get the general idea," Hermione interrupted dryly.

"Yes, right, well you aren't with Harry, so you haven't got the map, and you can't afford to let your spotless record be tarnished by being caught out after curfew with a boy in the hallway, eh? So I offer to help hide you, for a price." Fred's hand slid down Hermione's arm to rest on her side, and his lips returned to her neck, kissing lightly once, twice. Her breathing sped up a bit.

"What price would that be?"

"Oh, no. It's your turn now. Give over," he said said lightly, a single finger tracing a light circle on her hip, making her breath hitch. "Open book question, Hermione. It's just me. I'm not going to tease you, much."

"Fine. I have thought of something, but it's not a story like what you were just describing. I guess there could be, but I've never given it any thought. You are going to meet me in the bedroom, and I'm there, just wearing my robe, and nothing else, but it's dark and I'm not sure where you are. Then I feel your hands on my shoulders, and you've made me jump a little, but I know it's you, and I'm safe."

Fred had returned to placing those maddening, teasing little kisses along her neck, under her ear, which she found terribly arousing and distracting, added to the warm sensation from this sharing of fantasies. At a nudge from him, she continued.

"I hear you whisper _luminaria_ and then there is candlelight, but the next instant, you've covered my eyes with a blindfold, so I can't see. You tell me to stay still, and I can feel you untying the robe, sliding it down my arms. You take my hand, and walk me over to the bed, and ask me if I trust you. Ohhhh," Hermione breathed, as Fred's free hand settled in comfortably over one breast, tracing circles with his thumb.

Fred's voice was low, his breath warm against her ear. "I think we ought to continue discussing this someplace a little more comfortable. Perhaps less clothed."

"I think that's an excellent idea," Hermione agreed, a bit breathlessly.

_Fred helped her up, and eagerly led her down the hallway, and for awhile, Hermione's fears and worries were forgotten._

_-o0o-_

___A/N: So. Uh. It's been awhile. Sorry. There is a whole lot going on right now – my workload increased (again), and I've been struggling to make things work. Additionally, I fell pregnant again shortly after I last posted. Some people know this, but pregnancy is not easy for me – very high risk, and anxiety-laden (our son was born very prematurely, and passed away shortly after birth). Fortunately, so far, things have gone better than we could have hoped; baby is doing well at 28+ weeks. Unfortunately between the two things, I've had neither time nor energy nor mental focus to make much progress. I do apologize and thank everyone who is still reading for persevering and for the comments/messages of encouragement. I will continue to update as I can – but obviously life is not slowing down! Hope everyone is well and enjoys. Cheers!_


	23. Chapter 23

_Disclaimer: The story is mine, the characters are not. This is for entertainment, not profit. Etc._

-o0o-

Chapter 23

-o0o-

"It's mental," George said hotly.

"Do you have any better ideas, George?" Fred said wearily. "She has a point. It's not something we've considered, and we should consider everything."

"None of our family would do that, Fred, or our friends. You know better than that!"

Hermione winced. She could hear the brothers arguing from her study, and wasn't keen to join them. Fred had agreed, grudgingly, to make a list, and he was now trying to persuade George to check it. This morning, after a long night of good sex and good sleep, she felt foolish for having ever entertained the thought. Not enough to back down, but enough to feel guilty.

"Then it will be easy to mark them off the list, won't it? Just make sure I've not left anyone off, all right? I'm not asking for you to investigate them," Fred snapped.

George angrily took the list, and skimmed over it. "No, you've got them all. I'm going down. Somehow I've lost my appetite." The door to the flat slammed a moment later.

Shortly after, Fred was framed in the doorway of the study, list in one hand, tea in the other. "There you are. I'm not sure what it will tell you. I don't think anyone but Bill or Fleur could have set that monitoring charm round here, and George has a point. I have a very difficult time believing anyone would try to hurt us."

Hermione rubbed a hand over her face and sighed. "I do too. How're things coming with that supplier?"

Fred frowned. "Something is definitely up there. Lacewing flies are disappearing, and I've heard from two different sources that griffin feathers are becoming really difficult to find at present."

"Griffin feathers? How bizarre." The furrow on Hermione's forehead increased.

"Yes. And salamandar tails as well. George heard from our regular herbologist that she's having trouble getting hold of monkey fern."

"I cannot think of anything that uses all of those ingredients," Hermione said slowly.

"Neither of us can either. I know you can use griffin feathers in a strengthening solution that can be applied to inanimate objects, and monkey fern is useful in substitute for thistle, but the salamander tails are throwing me. Outside of heating potions and everlasting candles, they aren't terribly useful."

"I have this gnawing feeling that we're missing something," Hermione said.

"Well, obviously we are," Fred replied, faint amusement coloring his voice.

"No, it's something just out of reach, a feeling that I should be seeing it, finding a connection. It's terribly irksome," Hermione said severely.

"Well, put your magnificent brain to it and I've no doubt you'll have worked it out by lunch. Only, it's probably better if you stay up here for a bit, as George is pretty hot at the mo." Fred was wry.

His wife pursed her lips, and when she spoke, her voice was tart. "He does understand that I'm not accusing anyone or hoping that my guess is accurate, doesn't he?"

"Probably. Or he will when he cools off a bit. Mione, love, it's not an easy or comfortable thought. It's not pleasant to consider it or the implications, which you should know as you burned yourself quite badly by getting caught up in that line of inquiry yesterday." Fred raised an eyebrow at her and sipped his tea.

"Yes, yes, I remember it clearly. I'll stay up here then, if you promise that George will cool off," she said, suddenly feeling a bit worried about how uncomfortable it would be should they not work out any differences over the issue, and what sort of position it would put Fred in.

"He will. We Weasleys can be a bit hotheaded, but it'll be fine, you'll see," Fred said before kissing her on the forehead and heading downstairs.

Hermione spent the remainder of the morning upstairs, lost in thought. She re-read her Herbology text and added a few notes to her letter to Neville, but it was with half a mind turning her lists over and over, thinking about the potions ingredients that were running low, trying to piece them together. . .

The only thing that came remotely close were strengthening solutions. The lacewing flies indicated polyjuice, which was sinister, but even the twins often kept a batch brewing, ready for use in products. The monkey fern though, that was reminding her of something. Hermione drummed her fingers on her desk, her eyes unseeing as her mind cast back over pages and pages of potions and spells. The only vague connection she could make was a potion using thistle that was supposed to help with astral projection. However, Hermione frowned, thinking furiously, if one substituted monkey fern and didn't counteract the increased strength, and perhaps added something like valerian or motherwort and something like salvia root to lower inhibitions one could create a powerful suggestibility potion, in the right preparation.

At least she thought so, but certainly her husband or her brother in law could tell her for certain. Giving a small sigh about how this might come across, she nevertheless pushed herself up and began preparing lunch. Freshly baked bread and a warm, thick vegetable soup sounded placating and filling to her, and food was ever a way to offer a truce to a Weasley. She didn't mean to anger George, but ignoring something so obvious was a dangerous idea. Hermione worked on the bread dough, taking pleasure in beating it down and set to slicing vegetables while it rose a second time. The door to the flat slamming behind her made her jump and caused the knife to slip, slicing into her finger.

"Shite!" she exclaimed, quickly drawing her bleeding finger away from the carrot she'd been slicing, bringing it up to examine it.

"What?" came the belligerent question from the hallway, George appearing from his bedroom, an angry look on his face.

"The slammed door startled me and I cut myself," Hermione said coolly, despite the pain.

George's scowl grew, but he strode towards her. "Let me see," he said impatiently.

"I'll take care of it," she snapped, reaching for her wand.

"Let me see. You may need dittany," he said in a softer voice. Reluctantly, Hermione stretched out her hand, and George gently examined the finger. "Too deep for _episkey_. Get it washed up, I'll send Fred up with the dittany. Sorry I startled you. You should be more careful, Hermione. Two accidents in two days." He was still stiff, and angry, she supposed, but he was less unfriendly than before.

"Thank you," she said softly, adding, as George turned back towards the door, "I don't want to be correct, George."

"Right," he said flatly, without turning around. "Look, Fred will be up in a mo." The door shut more gently this time, and Hermione stifled the groan on her lips at the mess she'd made with her theory.

She stepped towards the sink and carefully began washing her finger, cringing a bit to hear the clattering on the stairs as Fred raced towards her. The door opened and she called out to forestall him, "I'm ok! Just a cut. A bit deep, but an accident."

"Your accidents are going to give me a heart attack, love," he sighed, taking her hand in his and examining the cut, much as his twin brother had done. He retrieved the essence of dittany and carefully dropped two drops into the cut, watching it steam as it healed the cut. When her finger was good as new, he kissed it softly.

"What happened? If you're going to do that by hand, you've got to be careful," he admonished gently.

"I know, it was really an accident. The door slamming startled me and the knife slipped. That's all," Hermione admitted.

"Be more careful, please," Fred said, kissing her forehead. "What are you making?"

"Vegetable soup and fresh bread. Thought it might help," she said with a shrug, returning to her slicing, anxious to get the ingredients into the pot so they would have enough time to simmer.

"It's a good idea," he said. "We'll be up about one or so. He's at least thinking about it."

Hermione nodded, though her shoulders drooped some. Fred gave her a squeeze and then she could hear him thunder downstairs. She returned to her preparations, feeling for all the world like a giant heel.

-o0o-

Two and a half hours later, the flat smelled terrifically of baking bread, and the soup was bubbling in a determinedly cheerful way, as if nothing bad could happen when there was vegetable soup simmering. Fred came upstairs first, and hung his robes up before washing his hands. Hermione set aside the book on arithmancy she'd tried distracting herself with, and summoned soup bowls, bread plates and utensils. George came in just as Hermione dished out the soup and Fred used his wand to slice even, thick slices of the still steaming bread.

They all sat down together at the table, but Hermione was visibly nervous and unusually quiet. George was still frowning, and Fred was doing his best to remain quiet, as if talking would open up the issues they were having at present.

It was a shock when George finally spoke, then, perhaps as equal as the shock of his words. "Fine. You may be right, even if I hate the idea. Means we need to have a look at Ron, then, doesn't it?"

Hermione's eyes widened and she shook her head. "I wasn't thinking of anyone particularly, George."

"Well, what else were you going to do with the list, Hermione, use it as a Christmas gift guide?" he snapped at her.

"Oi, mate," Fred said in a warning tone. George's jaw clinched but he was quiet. "Tell me how you've arrived at Ron from that lot?"

"Most obvious, innit? He was very upset about you lot, and strong emotions related to the objective of the suggestibility potion renders the person under suggestion much more cooperative. Would he consciously hurt either of you? Of course not, but it would make the job of the controller far easier." George looked down at his bowl, resignation on his face. "Not to mention how oddly he's acted on occasion. Like that morning he floo'd here and didn't remember how he got here?"

"It wasn't the first time," Fred said slowly. "There was another time, you weren't here, George. Hermione was still asleep, and I was alone in the kitchen and he showed up. Looked like he'd been up all night."

Hermione's forehead was creased in concentration. "How did he sound that time?"

"At first, he just made me jump, showing up that early unexpectedly. He just sounded tired, and said he'd been up a lot of the night thinking. I dunno, it's a bit far-fetched, isn't it?"

"Not necessarily. I hate to say it, but Ron is the most likely candidate from another point as well," Hermione said, feeling absolutely traitorous, her voice shaking. "He's the only other person matched through the pool, and was matched to someone we don't know well."

"And she was Slytherin, and so was most of her family," George said darkly.

"It's not only that. Remember what I said about the Quidditch players having greater opportunity to be targeted? That is equally true for this sort of thing as well. Trainers, team management, another team member? Anyone would be able to get close enough to slip one of them a potion or cast a spell. But I think it's a potion."

"Why?" Fred asked quickly.

"I started thinking about the ingredients you listed as being unusually scarce. You said monkey fern can be used as a substitute for thistle. There is a potion used by seers to aid in astral projection that utilizes a greater amount of thistle than usual. Tell me if I'm wrong about the potential outcome," she began and outlined her earlier thoughts about a strong suggestibility potion.

George shook his head. "No, you're right. That preparation would yield a potions equivalent of the Imperius curse in high enough doses. It could be thrown off, but only if the directions given were in serious opposition to the recipient's natural feelings."

"As an example," Fred said, looking quite grave, "if you took it, knowingly or not, and were told to attack me, it probably wouldn't work, because it's such a part of your being not to harm me. But if it told you to attack Hermione, particularly at a time when you were angry with her, you would do it."

George looked disturbed, but nodded. "That's the basic idea. It's speculation though. And that would have to be massive doses of it, and nearly continuous to keep the recipient in the state of suggestibility. Smaller doses would likely work for a shorter period of time and could be more finicky."

"So it's possible," Hermione said flatly. The twins exchanged dark looks and nodded slowly. "And you both think it's Ron?"

Fred sighed. "I don't know what to think. I haven't had much time to think it over, have I? It's possible. But it's equally possible it's someone else on the list. We haven't studied it in depth."

"I don't want it to be him either. He's one of my best friends," she said quietly, pushing aside the bowl of half-eaten soup, her stomach knotting unpleasantly.

George made a sound of impatience. "Best spend the afternoon going through it and figuring out who has an alibi for the major events and who doesn't. That will narrow it down. You've a point about the Quidditch players, but anyone could be slipped a potion-filled drink at any point, so don't focus completely on them."

There was silence as each of them seemed to contemplate their bowls. Fred scowled, and devoured the remains of his meal quickly, and George reluctantly did the same. Hermione vanished the contents of her bowl and sighed moodily.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to cast suspicion on anyone in our family, or your friends. But we have to be certain, don't we? It is possible." Just who she was trying to convince with her pleading wasn't clear.

Fred reached across the corner of the table and grasped her hand reassuringly. "Yes, sweetheart, we need to be sure. Right, Gred?" He levelled a look at his twin, who nodded.

"Fine then. I'll go over the list and compare it to my timeline of events. I'll let you know what I come up with," Hermione said, looking a bit sad, before shaking her head and clearing the dishes.

Fred pressed a kiss to his wife's cheek before descending the stairs, but George remained, shuffling his feet a bit as Hermione caused the dishes to begin washing themselves under her direction.

"Look, Hermione, I'm sorry, really, about earlier. I -" he began, but was cut off by Hermione.

"Don't worry about it, George. Really," she cut in quickly. He cocked his head as he studied her, and his mouth opened and then closed, and he finally just nodded. Hermione sent the dishes to their proper places with a flick of her wand, and started towards her study, taking care to nudge George with her shoulder in a friendly gesture as she passed him. The smile that crossed his anxious face filled her with relief.

Fred had been right after all.

-o0o-

Rubbing her temples, Hermione stared down at her notes. Not much had changed. The only people who had access to every event and everyone was the family. And when you isolated them, Ron's behavior stood out as peculiar and unusual. It left her stomach churning and her head pounding. There were circles of thoughts chasing each other: shock that she could consider Ron being involved; anger for his coldness to her and the poor terms on which their romantic relationship had ended; disgust at herself for considering the possibility; the thing she returned to over and over, the fact that he had left them during the Horcrux hunt. It was unfair, and Hermione knew it, because of how badly Ron was affected by the Horcrux. And yet, if she were honest, she had to admit that the incident left her unable simply to dismiss the theory out of hand. Ron was capable of being influenced, perhaps even susceptible to it, and they'd established today that it was entirely likely that a strong suggestibility potion was being produced in massive quantities.

Logic. She needed to think logically. If Ron was being dosed regularly with a suggestibility potion, it meant that it had to be someone he saw frequently administering it. Not only would the potion wear off eventually, but as it did, Ron might begin to suspect something as his natural inclinations came into sharper focus, which would make it harder to control him. Frequent dosing and proximity to deliver suggestions would be necessary. That left three options; someone else in the family was dosing him, someone closely connected with the Cannons, or his marriage match or someone sufficiently close to her that Ron would see them.

Hermione was inclined to move the family to bottom of the list as the least likely. If one of the other Weasleys were responsible, there was no reason to use only Ron, and no one else but Molly fit the timeline of events, and that was beyond Hermione even to conceive of. Which left what? His team or his bride to be, or her close connections. Neither of which were easy to investigate at this point. Her head was beginning to ache with this. She wished she could talk to Harry, get a sense from him of what he knew about Daphne, about the Cannons. Ron had surely confided in him about both things, more than anyone, and Harry was good at overhearing things. And yet, given how George, and even Fred to some extent, had reacted at the thought of their brother being used as a pawn, she shuddered to imagine Harry's response. Explosive might be an understatement. Percy, perhaps, could be relied on to provide discreet inquiry and perhaps some detail into the backgrounds of the Greengrass family and their associates. And there was something more, something she'd noticed and filed away, but that might be significant, given the line of her current thoughts.

At the last Order meeting, when talking over the timelines and breaking down their altered assignment, Ron had commented that there was no sense in starting the timeline prior to July, that there were no discernable patterns because the action was too scattered. Percy had frowned and noted that the passage of the Marriage Law about that time was a strange coincidence. She wondered now what he'd meant and whether or not there was any possible link. It was far-fetched to think to think that there could be a planned link of any kind. Not only was that planning complex in the extreme, but she and Ron had been dating at the time. There was no way for any outsider to be able to plan for Hermione breaking things off with Ron just before the deadline and match him to a family with potential ties to Voldemort, if that was even what this was about.

And yet, Hermione's mind tumbled over and over this nugget from Percy about the coincidence. Perhaps given the coincidence of it all, she ought to focus on the Cannons. After all, Ron had received his invitation to try out before the marriage law had been put into works. That made more sense, but she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something there. She leaned back in her chair, frowning at the desktop. How could there be anything to Ron, the breaches of the wards, and anything else with the law? The law was governed by an impartially cast spell that matched individuals based on a number of factors. There was no way, short of tampering, that Ron could have been placed in proximity to anyone, especially since the shadowy 'they' behind all of this could not have foreseen her separation from Ron if it were planned.

Before she could talk herself out of it, Hermione snatched a piece of parchment and hastily wrote a note to Percy asking him to dinner that evening, promising a strawberry trifle for dessert; a coded request for an urgent meeting. She folded it and summoned one of the delivery owls and sent it off before she could regret her decision and change her mind. Hermione was feeling too involved in her thoughts and her emotions to clearly see anything at this point; Percy would be more level-headed than she could possibly be.

That done and with nothing further to distract her, she wandered downstairs. George was in the workroom, and Fred was nowhere to be seen, which meant only that he must be on the floor. No sooner had the question formed in her mind, than an image of Fred near the front of the store taking inventory of the Wonder Witch products filled her mind. Relieved to know where he was, and without questioning how she knew, Hermione turned to George.

"Assuming the speculation has a basis in reality, how might one counteract a suggestibility potion like the one we've discussed? Is there an anti-dote that could be developed?"

George set down whatever oddity he was tinkering with and focused on a spot beyond Hermione's head only the faintest traces of a frown indicated he was thinking furiously. Abruptly he shook his head. "Not that I can see immediately. I mean, there are plenty of antidotes for general potions and poisons, but this is awfully specialized, and we are making a number of assumptions with regard to the potential potion. The ingredients we've discussed have potential to be combined in a way that could render the specific effect we talked about, but how precisely you get there is enormously important to creating a block against it. For instance, whether the monkey fern is stewed or steeped, whether the leaves of the salvia root are crushed or torn, and how many clockwise stirs, it will all have a very specific effect on the outcome of the potion. Best bet would be a regularly ingested potion that is supposed to strengthen the mind to help prevent the Imperius curse. That is limited at best though, not sure if it could be altered or improved on."

Hermione merely nodded, sensing that a response was unnecessary, and being proven correct when George continued speaking, and reached for a notebook to jot down notes. Her desire was fulfilled, and whatever possibilities for circumventing a strong suggestibility potion existed would be thoroughly explored by her crafty brother-in-law. Now all that was left to do was wait for Percy and plan her argument.

-o0o-

Speechless was a not term frequently applied to Percy Weasley, but he stared at Hermione for a full two minutes without speaking before finally shaking his head gravely.

"Are you absolutely certain, I mean, forgive the impudence, that there is no, ahem, lingering resentment that might be influencing your feelings in this matter?" he asked, with hesitation.

"Don't answer that, Hermione," Fred growled at his brother. "I know Percy won't insult either of us with that question."

Hermione laid a hand on her husband's arm and said soothingly, "No, Fred, it's a reasonable question. Percy, I don't know. I don't want to believe it, really, and the only way I believe it is to assume there is something compelling him. Have we leapt to wild conclusions?"

Percy removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing, "No. I don't think so either. I just hate to think -" He closed his eyes momentarily, and then sat up a bit straighter. "Right, well, tell me what you need assistance with."

Hermione relaxed a bit, the hurdle of convincing someone else passed. "I think there are two avenues of approach to Ron. Either his team or his fiance and her family. I expect the focus should probably be on the team."

"I don't necessarily agree," George spoke from his perch on the counter top for the first time. "I know what you're going to say, Hermione, but the Greengrasses are mostly Slytherin, far back as they go, and I don't trust anyone whose family was so entrenched in that house, because nearly all of them were active in Voldemort's side in some capacity."

Ever prepared, Percy pulled a notebook and a dictating quill from pockets in his robes and set them recording before asking, "Right, let's be logical about this. Hermione, why do you think the team is more likely than the members of the Greengrass family?"

"It's less that I think the team is more likely and more that I think the family less likely. I mean, Ron and Daphne were matched through the pool. Even if someone thought to tamper with the matching to get their person matched with their target, how could that have been planned? Ron and I were dating right up until the prior matches had to be submitted," she responded.

"I agree we can't rule out the Cannons entirely. There are plenty of rumors that they are corrupt as it is; this wouldn't be a stretch," Percy said absently, tapping his finger on the wood of the table, as if trying to recall a thought of greater importance.

"Really?" Fred said with disbelief. "Corrupt?"

"Yes, they've been awful for so long, there is a contingent in Games and Sports that think they may be point shaving and throwing games, dating back to Ludo Bagman's stint as department head," Percy spoke, his finger still absently tapping the table before him. "However, I'm inclined to think that George is correct and we're more likely to find something by looking at the Greengrass family, though I admit I'd be a little surprised, since Achille Greengrass is such an enthusiastic philanthropist."

"And Lucius Malfoy donated heavily to St. Mungo's, what's your point?" Fred said sarcastically.

"That his philanthropy is of a more active nature than simply cheque-writing. He's worked for bettering conditions for non-human magical beings and was a key backer of the research that led to the discovery of Wolfsbane. I know very little about Madame Greengrass truthfully; I seem to remember that she was intimate with Narcissa Malfoy though."

"Don't forget that Daphne's sister is matched to our favorite ferret," George said suddenly.

"Yes, another outlet to pursue," Fred said, pushing himself to his feet and paced the room for want of activity. "But really, it's a hell of a plan to put together and pull off when you figure out at the last moment that Hermione and Ron have split up. And the earliest activity pre-dates the deadline to submit the paperwork to be pulled from the pool, anyway. That should be a point in favor of the Cannons."

"The earliest activity pre-dates the matching pool, but the really targeted attacks are all some time after," George argued, "Think about this for a moment. We know that someone is trying to attack us, for reasons we don't understand. The timeline carries back a ways before the first attack on you. What if – no, _listen_ to me – what if they saw the marriage law as a means of getting closer to us?"

"But how? I thought it was all above board and witnessed and everything," Fred said, with a frown on his face.

"Actually," Percy said, focusing clearly on the coversation for the moment, "it's entirely possible. It shouldn't be, but it is. The office overseeing the matching spells and compliance with the law – the Department for Matrimonial Affairs - would have been one of the few people outside our family or close friends to have been aware that Ron was going to be matched through the pool. There was a period of a week to ten days before the matches were made, and some sort of tampering might have been possible."

"Oh, Merlin," Hermione said, going a bit pale.

"What is it?" Fred asked in alarm; Hermione was visibly upset.

"We're making an assumption that whoever is behind this wanted Ron," Hermione said slowly.

"Yes, well, given that we're talking about Ron's match, or her family, as the potential shadowy figure behind this, versus his Quidditch team, it makes sense, doesn't it? Or are we no longer agreed that Ron is the person most likely being drugged and used against us?" George's voice had edge to it.

"I mean that there was another Weasley to choose from," she said, looking at her husband, fear in her eyes. "Fred never had a match."

"It's still quite a stretch, don't you think?" Fred said thinly, feeling an uncomfortable dropping sensation in his stomach. "Hoping that I wouldn't find a match? Plenty of people settled instead of opting for a stranger. I had more than one offer. It just strikes me as ridiculous to base a plan around the hope that someone isn't going to take up an offer from desperation. And this assumes it was even possible to tamper with this matches. Thought it was supposed to be impersonal and above-board."

"I wasn't there, I only know how it was supposed to work, but I think it could be done. This is all a lot of speculation, really," Percy said, tilting his head back and studied the ceiling unseeingly, his mind clearly working through the new possibilities.

"Of course it's all speculation!" George responded hotly, but he subsided at the warning look his twin gave him, clenching his jaw against his words.

Percy finally shook his head, and looked almost apologetically at Hermione. "It fits the timeline better." Hermione began pacing now, arms crossed before her as Percy continued. "If it were someone on the Quidditch team, then they'd have had access to Ron earlier. But George is correct; the attacks on you didn't start until much later – until Ron and Daphne were beginning to spend time together. It makes more sense that whoever is behind this started trying to figure out the wards and used the other areas as practice, and realized around the time of the marriage law that they couldn't break the wards directly and would need more direct access."

"It's still a pretty big leap to assume that there would be anyone with access to us, though," Fred said, arms crossed, the queer tumbling feeling still present in his stomach.

"But not really, d'you see?" Hermione said suddenly. "There would have to be someone. If not Fred, if not Ron, then someone you knew or someone close to you. Maybe Lee, or Oliver Wood or someone. It is nearly certain that someone would be available if you weren't."

"But why Ron, then?" Fred asked, with exasperation. "Why not me directly? What does going through Ron gain them?"

Hermione finally collapsed onto the sofa. "I don't know. I could formulate a theory or two though."

"More distance, perhaps?" Percy suggested. "It would probably be easier for someone to question you acting oddly, Fred. George lives with you, and you don't get out into public quite as frequently. It would place suspicion on your match from the begining. And of course, if you were to be hurt in these attacks then there would be a risk that your match could likewise be injured, which the perpetrators might prefer to avoid."

Fred finally threw himself down beside his wife, and rubbed tiredly at his temples. "Aphrodite's tits! We just go around and around. Every time it seems we make some progress, we unlock loads more questions to which we have no answers."

Hermione slid an arm around her husband, hugging him close for a moment. "Percy's right about the potential for reasons. There are loads of them. Does it matter? Really? What we need to do is figure out what to do next, if we are in agreement here that we feel Ron is being utilized by someone probably close to Daphne's family."

"I need to talk to Kingsley," Percy said. "He needs to know, so that we can investigate this properly."

"What about Ron?" Fred asked. "We have to be careful. If he's being used . . . and the chance that he's not being used or that it's nothing to do with the Greengrasses. There is too much to worry about."

This declaration made them even more somber. Fred had touched on the heart of the matter, the issue they had been side-stepping all day long, for all of their careful thought. What would they do with this information? How could it be verified? Quiet reigned as they studied each other.

Abruptly, Percy stood up. "We'll leave it for Kingsley. But perhaps it would be best to cogitate on our reasoning for another night. This has been a lot of guesswork, with good reason, but still."

"It is our baby brother," George said softly.

"One more night," Fred agreed, looking at Hermione, who nodded in turn.

"Yes, let's ask for a meeting with King tomorrow morning. I want to be there," Hermione said firmly.

Percy agreed, and little more was said before Percy left, leaving George, Fred and Hermione ranged around the kitchen and lounge, discomfitted.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said.

"Don't apologize," Fred said tiredly. He heaved himself up and strode into the kitchen, opening the cabinet which housed the liquor. "Who else wants firewhiskey?"

"Me," said George, dragging a hand over his face. "I suppose we should think about dinner, then." He accepted the measure of alcohol from his brother and they tossed their shots back simultaneously.

"I'm not particularly hungry," Hermione said, listlessly.

"Doesn't matter," Fred said. "You need to eat anyway. Eggs are pretty gentle. I can do a fry up."

George finally hopped down from his perch on the counter. "Sounds good to me. I'm going to down to the workroom. My night for catch-up. Smashing some potions ingredients sounds just about right for my mood."

He shut the door gently behind him, and Fred began gathering up the necessary items for their meal. Hermione watched without comment, observing the tension falling from his frame as he worked in the familiar, soothing patterns. Quietly, she slipped from her seat and moved behind him, sliding her arms around him, laying her head over his heart, drawing comfort from the reliable rhythms of its beating.

"Tell me this will be all right," she whispered, giving voice to the fear she couldn't quite shake.

"Of course, love," he said in a low voice. "Isn't the end, yet, now is it?"

"I'm worried, Fred," she admitted. "I'm not sure why. Something about this frightens me."

"I know, Mione. Me too." Fred cupped her face with his free hand. "But we'll figure it out. And whatever is behind Ron, we'll find them, and end this." His kiss was gentle, but Hermione felt his resolve.

Hermione took strength from that and gave her husband a small smile that hid whatever concerns she still felt. "Right. It's not the end yet."

-o0o-

_A/N: Bit of a long time coming, I know. Next chapter is well under way, but time flies by with too many things to fill it. One way or another, this story (and Afterwards) will be finished. Hope you've enjoyed this - we're really getting into it now, aren't we? Love to hear from you - I wonder who saw this coming? I really appreciate all the continued interest (over 500 favorites?! I'm blown away!), and all the kind notes and encouragements. It's amazing to me that so many people have found this worth reading and commenting on. I really enjoy this myself - which is why I take the time to make sure that what is going up is the right story, with at least a cursory edit for spelling and grammar. Hope everyone is well. Until next time - cheers._


	24. Chapter 24

_Disclaimer: Seriously, there's not much point, is there? I am clearly far too American to be JKR. As such, I have no rights to anything but the plot, and that might be dubious at times too, everything old being new again and such. (Why, yes, I did turn on some old BNL favourites for the little one, why? What can I say, she likes dancing to a catchy tune.)_

-o0o-

Chapter 24

-o0o-

One look at the somber breakfast table was enough to reveal that none of them had changed their minds, nor had Percy. He accepted Fred's offer of tea, and informed them that Kingsley would have time early in the day if Hermione could be ready soon. Wordlessly, she went to don appropriate robes.

"Perce, is it safe for her to go to the Ministry?" Fred asked in a hushed voice. Hermione had not stepped foot inside since her poly-juiced appearance over a year before during their attempt to retrieve the locket horcrux.

"I won't leave her side for a moment, and we'll be in and out as quickly as possible through the floo in my office," Percy assured his brother.

"She's a more than capable witch, Forge," his twin said gently. "She's been in the Alley with no issue. She can manage the Ministry, and it'll be better for her to be there to explain to Kingsley."

Fred only nodded, but the set of his shoulders indicated his displeasure. Hermione returned, looking chic and every inch the modern witch in new, stylish robes in lilac, her hair in a sleek chignon.

"I'm ready whenever you are," Hermione announced.

"Finish breakfast," said Fred, sternly. He pushed her half-finished plate back towards her. "You have a tendency to stop eating when you are anxious, and it's not healthy. Have to keep your strength up for that massive brain to work properly."

Hermione leveled a glare at him, but swallowed a few more bites to appease her husband as Percy finished his cup of tea. With a genial good-bye, which belied the anxious tension they all felt over this visit, and disappeared through the floo.

-o0o-

Percy's office was no more like what Hermione expected than the twins' flat had been. Where she might have expected something terribly official and orderly, with uncomfortable modern furniture and clean white walls, instead she found cheerfully yellow walls and white furniture with gray and red trim. A collage of moving photos, largely of his family dominated the wall behind his desk, as if he were trying to make up for his former distance. The desk itself couldn't be seen, covered with paper and books, as was the low table before the sofa.

He gave a slightly embarrassed cough as Hermione looked around. "Please have a seat. I sent an owl this morning warning him that we might need some time before the day begins. The Minister usually arrives by a quarter to eight, which is why I was eager to get here."

Hermione took a seat, and stared out the faux window at what looked to be an overcast morning. "Chance of snow today?"

Percy glanced at the window as well. "Seems like it. The climate charms seem to be closer to the usual weather. Things were much more unsettled when the marriage law was first announced. I felt rather badly for the poor people temporarily assigned to the Department for Matrimonial Affairs; that entire section of the Ministry was absolutely besieged by poor weather."

"Matrimonial Affairs? What an unfortunate choice of names," Hermione observed with a smile.

Percy smiled as well, looking far less serious and much closer a relation to his brothers. "Yes, well, Delores always was exceptionally formal and ridiculous, wasn't she?"

"Delores _Umbridge_?" Hermione squeaked, her mouth suddenly going very dry.

"Yes," Percy said with confusion. "She's the head of the department, I thought you knew."

Hermione felt light-headed, and queasy, even as she struggled to breathe evenly, her mind was racing. "I don't understand. How can she still be here? That evil, loathsome, vile woman! How is it that she wasn't prosecuted?" She sat rigidly, her breathing growing more shallow as the implications of this rolled over her.

"Hermione, put your head down on your knees!" Percy instructed her, watching the incipient panic attack unfolding. She followed his instructions, a distant part of her mind knowing she needed to regain control in order to process this news, but feeling at the same time a return of the panic she felt during her last visit to the ministry. "Breathe deeply. In through your nose, slowly, slowly, and now exhale, slowly again."

It took a few minutes, but eventually Hermione raised her head to fix her pale, haunted gaze on Percy. "Tell me why she's in charge of that department." Her tone was icy.

Before he could answer, a knock at the door distracted him. A pugnacious looking older woman said officiously, "The Minister requests your presence in his office whenever you are available."

"Yes, thank you, Gertrude, we'll be on our way momentarily," Percy said courteously. "Can we discuss this issue further with the Minister, please?"

Hermione sniffed, but rose to follow her brother in law, who escorted her down the corridor a short ways, through an open waiting room where Gertrude sat shuffling papers self-importantly. Percy nodded to her, but proceeded beyond her and opened the door himself, to her obvious chagrin.

"Madame Weasley! How good to see you, and gracious of you to come so early in the morning. May I offer you some coffee or tea, or perhaps some pastry or a scone? And you, Weasley? Care for anything?" Kingsley's formality while Gertrude was within earshot set Hermione on edge.

"Yes, thank you, some tea and a muffin, perhaps, Minister," she said, with just a hint of a questioning lilt in her tone. Percy murmured his assent as well.

"Excellent. Gertrude, if you would, please?" Kingsley turned away and ushered Hermione and Percy to an elegant sofa and arm chairs gathered around the table near a crackling fire in an overly ornate fireplace, and as they were arranging themselves, the officious woman set the tray down and hovered. "Ah thank you. Now if you would let Arthur Weasley know that the review of the MLE files will be moved back to ten this morning, I'd appreciate it."

Gertrude gave a petulant huff, clearly hoping she'd be asked to remain in the meeting, and she cast a venomous look at Percy as she stalked out of the room, shutting the door with an audible snap. Kingsley nodded at Percy, who withdrew his wand and cast a silent charm, and then he quietly motioned the pair up and over towards his desk.

"I apologize, Hermione, but we have reason to believe Gertrude is attempting to listen in our conversations. I cast _muffliato_ whenever I can, but certain things have led me to believe she may be using something with the china to eavesdrop. It may be that she simply wants to know what is going on, but I can't be too careful. Now. Tell me what you've discovered."

Between them, Percy and Hermione outlined the thoughts that had led them to conclude that Ron was being utilized by some third party in some way. The arguments were now familiar and repetition only made them more compelling to Hermione. Kingsley seemed less shocked than thoughtful, but the implications were not lost on such a well trained Auror.

Looking grave, he said, "We need to talk to Arthur." Percy opened his mouth to object, but Kingsley's deep drawl silenced him. "I understand and agree with not making any hasty announcements, but Arthur is the head of Magical Law Enforcement. He needs to be aware from a strategic standpoint, but he's also best suited, in my opinion, to weigh in on this issue without raising undue alarm. It is necessary. When he is aware, I think we will be better able to formulate a clear plan of action."

"I had hoped for, I dunno, more proof, I suppose, before saying anything," Hermione sighed.

Kingsley gave her a sympathetic look. "I understand, but even so. I might suggest that Percy and I speak with Arthur, and we'll form plans from there."

"So that's it for me then?" she said with asperity. "Just sit at home and wait to see what happens next?"

"Yes," Kingsley said bluntly. "You are one of the most intelligent witches I've ever met, Hermione. Your record is quite impressive. But you've got very little real investigative experience and a great deal of emotional connection to blind you. Let us determine the best course of monitoring and action. Continue researching, work with Fred and George on an antidote. Try to figure out what the motives for attack are. You are far more valuable in that direction."

"Fine," she said a bit coolly. "I'll leave off for now. But in exchange, you need to answer a question for me. Why is Delores Umbridge here and in charge of a department?"

Kingsley raised an eyebrow at her challenging, almost belligerent tone. "Hermione, if I were to arrest every employee of the Ministry who was involved in carrying out Thicknesse or Fudge's orders, we'd have very few employees left. There were no criminal charges that could be made to stick. I know she's a foul little toad, but we couldn't terminate her."

"But you left her in charge of a department?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"A department she can't manipulate!" the Minister for Magic answered with exasperation. "She's a lame duck, Hermione. The spells are impartial and she does little more than ensure the office is staffed. It was the best solution I could arrive at, given the situation I was in."

Hermione pursed her lips, but did not further pursue the topic. It bothered her though, immensely. That was too much coincidence with everything else, because Hermione knew what Kinglsey either did not or what he deemed unimportant: Delores Umbridge hated Hermione Granger and Fred, George and Ron Weasley, possibly as much as she hated Harry Potter. And she really hated Harry Potter.

"Right. I'll speak with Arthur later today, and we'll be in touch. If you are here much longer, it will be noticed. I suggest we return to the coffee table, finish our drinks and chat about zoning regulations for your section of Diagon Alley. It will let me know whether or not Gertrude is listening in. Shall we?"

Kingsley ushered them back to the sitting area, where Percy cancelled his spell and Hermione sipped at her tea. Percy seamlessly picked up mid-sentence, as if they had been there conversing the entire time, and Hermione was secretly impressed with his ability to dissemble. Taking her cues from Percy, Hermione managed a creditable story regarding the importance of outward expansion of the stores, as well as inward expansion, and pleaded with the Minister to consider legislation on the issue of zoning restrictions related to expansion limits. Percy finished the request by promising to review the figures involved and report on them later to Kingsley. Kingsley was charming and after a few minutes of light conversation that was designed to establish Hermione Weasley as an acquaintance of little real influence, she took her leave, profusely thanking the Minister for meeting with her so early in the day.

Gertrude smirked at her as Percy escorted his sister-in-law back to his private office, which unnerved Hermione a bit. The entire visit was more than unnerving; Hermione felt as if eyes were constantly on her, and she felt a little ill at what she had learnt. No sooner had Percy closed the door behind him than Hermione rounded on him.

"You think, or you've had the thought, that Umbridge may be behind this. That was what startled you when the timing was made clear." Her voice was hard and flat, just short of accusatory.

He slumped a bit. "Er, yes, the thought that she might be involved had crossed my mind," he admitted.

"And you've just kept it to yourself?" Hermione asked with disbelief.

"What would you have me say? I can't conceive of precisely how Delores would have manipulated the matches without being caught, let alone figure out why she would do so. Even if she did manipulate the matches, I can't understand how she would have any lingering influence on Ron or how she might be behind these attacks. That would be down to the Greengrasses, and to my knowledge they have no relationship with Delores."

"You should have said something," Hermione said in a clipped tone. "That the. . . that . . . that _hag_ had any influence - Don't you know what she did to us?"

"Of course I do!" Percy said sharply. "Do you think I like being reminded and want to bring up that I was a bloody idiot? Of what I did to my family for a corrupt government that was only trying to use me?" His voice was bitter.

Hermione gaped at Percy for a moment, then faltered. "I – I'm sorry, Percy. But I know that she has to be involved somehow, and it's terrifying. I don't think you understand how much she hates us, especially Harry and me."

Percy ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Probably true, Hermione, but I cannot think of any logical way for her to be actively involved. Maybe you can, I don't know. I'm sorry I shouted."

"No, it's fine. But I think I should go. Fred's probably going spare, I've been gone so long." Hermione stepped towards Percy, and kissed his cheek to show that there were no hard feelings, and with a pinch of floo powder and a whoosh of green flames, she was spinning back to her flat.

-o0o-

Fred was distracted. He knew Hermione could hold her own in every possible situation, but sending her off to the Ministry rather felt like sending her into a den of lions. It was an uncomfortable sort of feeling, and yet there was nothing for it. George took one look at him and forbade him assisting customers until Hermione returned. And he should probably avoid potions too, his brother added after a moment.

So Fred spent the time apart from Hermione checking their potions stock, ensuring that the ingredients were up to quality. He'd just started checking their packaging supplies and trying not to worry that it had been too long a time when he heard the door to the flat open. A few moments later, Hermione was there, throwing her arms around him.

"Oi, love, what's this? Everything all right?" he asked with concern.

"Oh, um, yes," she said. "I just . . . I think I'm going to apparate over to Shell Cottage, take a walk on the beach. I don't want you worry."

"Right, ok," Fred said uncertainly. "What happened with Kingsley?"

Hermione pulled away, and picked up a random object from George's workbench, avoiding Fred's eyes. "Not much. He agrees with our reasoning, and will investigate things with your father. He wants us to continue working on antidotes and researching, trying to figure out the why behind all of this."

Fred nodded, feeling certain that there was something Hermione was not telling him, but not sure how to broach it. "Well, be sure you dress warmly. It's going to be quite chilly on the beach, yeah?"

She nodded her agreement, and gave him a quick, strained smile and quickly ascended the stairs.

Left behind, Fred frowned at the work table, wishing he could figure out what was bothering her so much. Perhaps she just needed some time to herself, but the fact that she would not meet his eyes bothered him.

"What's wrong now? Hermione being bored to death by Percy?" George asked light-heartedly, leaning against the door frame leading to the shop floor.

Fred shook his head. "No, she's back. But something's wrong. Not sure what, really. She said it was fine, but she's going to go for a walk by Shell Cottage."

"Nothing wrong with that. Been a bit stressful, hasn't it?" George could sense his brother's unease, and his disquiet was contagious.

"Yes, and there shouldn't be anything wrong. Even so, I can't pin it, and I don't like it. Something is on her mind and she's not sharing." Fred couldn't hide the troubled look that crossed his face.

"Well," George said slowly, "perhaps you ought to give her a bit of space. Try to discuss it over lunch. Maybe she just needs to work through her feelings about Ron or something."

"Right, yeah," Fred said. "I mean, she needs some time to herself now and then, and that's fine."

"You need distraction. Feel up to some transfiguration?" George said with as much cheerfulness as he could muster. "We need some more animal transfiguring sweets charmed."

"Yeah, all right," Fred said, even as he felt a tug in his chest and knew Hermione had left the flat above. He hoped very much that this distraction worked, because the worry was only growing.

-o0o-

Hermione had agreed with the wisdom of her husband's advice, and had changed from her stylish robes to jeans and trainers, with a jacket over a jumper and a scarf tucked into her pocket. She apparated near Dobby's grave, and went quickly to the house to announce herself, so she didn't startle Fleur. Only, no one was home, and Hermione was secretly grateful to be entirely on her own. However, the lack of family present gave the house an abandoned air, and rendered the scene foreboding.

Or maybe it was just Hermione's frame of mind, though it had to be acknowledged that a cloudy late November day on an English beach was more desolate than serenely peaceful. But she needed this grim vista, she needed to think and her thoughts were unpleasant.

She had no doubts that Delores Umbridge was somehow involved in the mystery and threats that hung over the Weasley twins, and by extension, if not design, over her. What was bothering her was wondering how far her involvement extended, and Hermione knew she didn't have enough information to discern it. There was still an element of fantastic reach, she couldn't ignore that, but there was a twisted logic which Hermione could feel was right.

Walking along the beach with a slow stride, Hermione hugged herself against the chilling wind that was picking up, and stared at the sea. She believed that Umbridge was responsible for Daphne being matched with Ron. Was it mere opportunity that was seized when she and Ron had unexpectedly broken up? Was it made necessary when she was matched with Fred?

Or, the question that had been lingering, which was really at the root of her unhappiness, had she and Fred been paired deliberately?

And there, now, she had admitted it to herself. If she was targeted and Fred were targeted, why not match them? Easier if they were frequently to be in the same place. If one pair could be tampered with, why not a second? What difference could it possibly make who she was paired with, or Fred, or Ron – except to maintain the maximum of control over their enemies?

Hermione withdrew her wand and conjured a beach chair and settled into it, withdrawing her scarf, and wrapping it round her neck and huddling a bit in her jacket. She was a thoroughly capable witch, she could conjure blue ball flames if she wanted, or cast a warming charm, but at the moment, she wanted to be cold. Irrationally, she felt if she were chilled from the outside, it might mask the chill she felt in her heart.

Why did this matter? She and Fred were irrevocably married now, whatever had happened to match them. They were happy, weren't they? Hermione loved Fred, and Fred loved Hermione. Wasn't that all that was important? Impatiently, she argued with herself. Logically, it was all that mattered. So why did she feel so shaken? Why was she suddenly so afraid? It felt as if her world had been shaken to the foundations just by learning that an old enemy she had given no thought to was still around.

Thus did her thoughts churn ceaselessly as she became colder and colder sitting alone on the beach in front of the desolate, deserted house as she watched the sky grow darker with gray clouds and the ocean tumble tirelessly before her. She lost track of all time, just growing numb on her conjured chair, wishing she didn't care about something which may or may not have happened.

-o0o-

"She's not back," Fred said in a calm voice, but his fretfulness was in full display on his face. George looked at him with surprise.

"It's been hours. What are you going to do, then?" Now even George looked concerned.

"I'm going to go get her, try to figure out if she's ready to talk yet." He began clearing his work bench, not that he'd accomplished much while growing increasingly anxious about his wife.

George hesitated. "Are you sure she's, y'know, all right?"

Fred looked up, surprised, as he took off his work robe and took a dragon skin jacket off the stand in the corner of the workroom. "She's not in immediate danger or hurt, certainly, if that's what you mean."

"Right, ok. Just, er, let me know when you get back, yeah?"

Fred nodded while he zipped up his jacket, then withdrew his wand and departed with a crack, to appear on the beach behind Shell Cottage. He spotted Hermione right away, a few meters down from where he had appeared, sitting and staring out at the ocean.

"Hermione, love?" he said gently, squatting down beside her chair.

She started and looked up at him blankly. "Fred? What're you doing here?"

"You've been gone for nearly five and a half hours. I've been getting concerned. I'm not trying to intrude on your privacy, but that's a very long time. You didn't seem quite yourself this morning after you got back."

Hermione looked down and bit her lip. "I'm sorry to have lost track of time. Just thinking, I suppose."

"I don't mean to pressure you or anything, but it's bloody freezing out here and it looks like a storm is rolling over. You ready to come back to the flat?" Fred's words were punctuated by several large drops of rain sputtering down around them.

"Yes, all right," she said, realizing for the first time how very cold it was, and how very stiff she was. She needed Fred's help to get out of the chair and she started shivering when Fred cast a warming charm over her. Walking was difficult, and they had a ways to go before getting back to the apparition point, so when the rain began coming down with more regularity, Fred ignored Hermione's protests and picked her up and carried her to the spot, then apparated them both to their bedroom.

"Right, you need to warm up, love," he said with as much cheerfulness as he could muster. He didn't like her reticence, but she was entitled to keep things private if she preferred. She was safe, that was all that mattered. "Bath or shower or while I get the tea on?"

"Bath, I think," Hermione said through her chattering teeth, stiff fingers trying pull off her clothes.

Fred headed into the bathroom and started the tub filling, and then returned to his wife and helped undress her. She was beginning to warm up, but still clumsy with cold. Hermione, feeling guilty for what felt like traitorous thoughts when here in the privacy of her bedroom with a more than solicitous husband assisting her to recover from her own foolishness, made no comment when Fred insisted on walking her to the loo and helping her climb into the tub.

"Ok. I'm going to put some tea on, and let George know you're all right. We were both getting a bit worried." He left then, and Hermione felt an even greater wave of guilt wash through her. The water was deliciously warm and she stopped shivering and just luxuriated in the warmth. Entirely stupid of her to behave so childishly, especially over Umbridge. And yet, she could not get it out of her head, at all. There was that insidious, niggling fear that threatened the foundation of her relationship with Fred.

-o0o-

Fred put the hot water on and trudged downstairs.

"Back then? All well?" George asked, looking up with a frown on his face. "Bit wet, aren't you?"

"It's raining in Tinworth," Fred confirmed. "It was about to really storm when we left." He shrugged out of his jacket and hung it up on the hook again.

"And Hermione?"

"Not sure. Freezing. She'd been sitting outside on the beach for Merlin knows how long. She's not hurt or anything, but something's bothering her and she's not letting on what." Fred looked a bit grim. "I made her get into the bath, she was shivering badly. Look, do me a favour?"

"Depends on the favour," George said evenly.

"Pop over to Tom's and pick up some lunch for us? And let me spend the afternoon upstairs, I'll owe you one," Fred offered.

"Yeah, all right. You can take the next daydreams and love potions shifts. What do you want from the Leaky?" George lowered the flame on the cauldron before him.

"Dunno, something filling and warm. Whatever will do, if you'll just leave it on the table with a charm. Thanks, mate," Fred said with gratitude for George's understanding.

"Anything for you, brother, when you make it worth my while," George said with a sly grin. Knowing the kettle would be boiling soon, Fred didn't wait to see his brother off.

Indeed, the kettle was whistling when Fred opened the door to the flat, and he quickly made tea, levitating the tea tray ahead of him to the loo when it was ready. Hermione was floating in the tub with her eyes closed when he set the tray down.

"You going to join me?" she asked quietly.

"If you'd like. George offered to pick up some lunch for us. I told him that I might not be back down today, but if you'd rather be alone, I've plenty to work on. Drink that, Mione," Fred indicated the tea, and began to strip down to join her.

Obediently, Hermione sipped at the strong tea, and couldn't deny that the last bit of chill faded away. Fred swam the length of the bathtub a couple of times as Hermione drank her tea, and tried to keep her disturbing thoughts at bay.

"Feelings any better, love?" he asked, searching her face.

"Yes, loads. Thanks," she said, then hesitated. "You take really excellent care of me. I'm sorry that I've worried you."

"Do you want to tell me what is bothering you so much?" he asked quietly.

"No," she whispered. "I – I don't want to discuss it just now."

"Ok," he replied. "Then what do you want to do? I'm all yours for the afternoon."

"I just want not to think for awhile. I can't seem to help it, my thoughts just spiral out of control, circle around and around the same territory."

"D'you want to stay in or go out, then? Maybe we could go to the cinema or something in muggle London," Fred offered.

Hermione sighed. "I appreciate the offer, I do feel restless, but I just need something more physical. Sitting about gives me too much room to think."

"Have you anything in mind?" Fred tried to keep the exasperation he was feeling from his voice.

Hermione turned to her husband, a look of worry and indecision that was unusual on her countenance flashing over. It worried Fred in turn.

"Love, I'm getting concerned," he said softly, reaching for her, cupping her cheek in his hand.

Hermione shuddered at his touch, a mix of desire and fear welling in her. Fred drew back sharply at her reaction, and the look of hurt on his face made her heart constrict. She spoke with no idea what she was going to say.

"Make love to me. I need you so badly," she whispered. "Please, Fred."

A wizard of action, even with the growing worry over what was eating at her, Fred recognized the naked need in her voice. What sex was going to do to help her, he didn't know, but he was damned sure she needed reassurance from him. And so he gave that to her, pulling her close to him in the water, running his hands all over her, following with his mouth, trying to convey in physical touch everything she meant to him.

She allowed it. Hermione could feel his concern, could sense how he pushed that aside to try and meet her need, even if he did not understand it. She, in turn, tried to shut off her mind, tried to focus only on him, on what he was doing to her. His mouth closed around her breast, which helped, but then the image of Umbridge glaring at her flashed through her head, and she groaned in frustration, feeling near tears.

Fred sensed her shifting mood and pulled away from her. Hermione buried her face in his shoulder, biting her lip so she wouldn't cry. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice muffled.

"No apologies necessary, Hermione. Can't always be in the mood all the time. Let's get some lunch and we'll try again, yeah?"

She nodded and allowed Fred to help her out of the small pool that was their bathtub. He tossed her a towel and dried himself with a spell. Stepping out into their bedroom before her, he pulled on lounging clothes. Moving more slowly behind him, she pulled on a silk dressing gown that Ginny had given her at her hen night. She just looked desolate, and Fred wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her on the forehead.

"C'mon, food should be on the table," he said bracingly. He took her hand and held it firmly as they moved down the hall to the great room. As promised, cartons from the Leaky were on the table, and they settled down to bangers and mash with beans and butterbeer Fred summoned from the kitchen. There was quiet for awhile, as they ate, but it wasn't long before Hermione was just moving the food about.

"Tell me," Fred said quietly, but firmly. "Because I'm just going to floo Percy and ask him what the hell happened to upset you so much."

Hermione was quiet for a moment, then she looked down at her hands, which were fiddling with the tie of her dressing gown. "Have you any idea who was put in charge of the Department of Matrimonial Affairs?"

Fred frowned. "No, never gave it any thought. Why?"

"It's Delores Umbridge." Hermione's voice was soft.

Fred stared at her, trying to wrap his mind around this news. "You think she had something to do with matching Ron and Daphne?"

"I think it's a distinct possibility."

But why should that upset her so? Fred stood up, and walked into the kitchen, taking the empty butterbeer bottles and cartons with him to drop in the vanishing cabinet. Obviously, Hermione believed that Umbridge had had a hand in matching the two of them as well.

"You think we shouldn't be together, that she did it," he stated flatly.

Hermione's head hung a bit lower. "I don't know. I don't want to believe that. But I know how much she loathes me, both of us. If she could get back at us somehow, she would."

"Even if she did somehow interfere to match us, what would that mean to us? If she were trying to hurt us, it's well backfired, hasn't it?"

Hermione nodded, sort of, but didn't meet his gaze.

"What does it mean to you?" Fred reach out and took her hand in his.

"I'm not sure. I'm afraid, Fred. I don't know what it means. It shouldn't mean anything at all," she said.

"Leave that aside," he said, squeezing her hand. "What might it mean?"

"What if everything we have isn't real? I know there was magic binding us, but I always believed that there was something else, that we were compatible, or something. I've always thought that there was something there, and now it may be that anything there at the basis of this relationship is her, and her doing. It feels like it's all tainted."

"No, Hermione," Fred said, feeling a stab of pain in his heart, as she dissolved into tears. He pulled her into his lap and hugged her close.

"I can't help it. There shouldn't be any difference. None at all, because I love you. But I can't stop thinking about it. I feel sick," she sobbed.

"Love, you have to stop. If you love me, and I love you, then whatever she intended or hoped for, if she had anything to do with it at all, which you don't know for sure – don't you see, it doesn't matter, because we've won. She has no power over us, Hermione." Fred's voice was low, insistent.

"I want to believe that," she said through tears.

"Then do. It's really as simple as that," he said. "Have faith in us. Decide that she can't do anything, can't have done anything to us. Because I love you, and because you love me. And we are better together than we were apart." Fred had her face in his hands, gently forcing her to look at him. Hermione didn't think she had ever seen him more serious than he was in that moment.

"Hermione, you have to understand. I was a wreck, a complete mess before you came into my life. George will tell you how worried he was. I was drinking heavily, I was terrified that something would happen to George. I wasn't sleeping, I wasn't well. You changed that," Fred said.

"Fred," she said uncertainly.

"So fuck Umbridge. She doesn't matter. You matter. You and me," Fred said. Hermione found she couldn't look away, not when the conviction was clear in his face and in his voice. "Do you believe me?"

She nodded, and when he continued to gaze at her with that clear, forceful look in his eyes, she licked her lips and said, "Yes."

"Do you love me?"

"Yes, of course," she said, without hesitation.

"That's it then," he said simply.

"I can't just stop thinking about it," she said, a bit fretfully.

"Then I'll make you forget. Just focus on me, yeah," Fred said, gripping Hermione closely, intensely.

"Please, Fred," she pleaded. "Make it not matter."

He wiped the tears from her face and kissed her forcefully, and she melted into that kiss. His hands kneaded her shoulders, insistent in their actions. When they broke apart, Hermione looked at Fred with a half-fearful look on her face. Fred stood both of them up abruptly, holding her shoulders to keep her balance.

"Just focus on what I'm doing, what I'm telling you to do. Don't think about anything other than what I'm telling you to do," he said, and his voice was low and persuasive. She felt a shiver of anticipation shudder through her, and for the first time in hours she felt something other than dread and she was immensely grateful for her husband's innate ability to do exactly as she needed.

"Go into the bedroom and stand at the foot of the bed," he ordered. Hermione complied immediately, feeling suddenly curious. She stood uncertainly at the foot of the bed, and Fred soon joined her.

"Do you trust me?" he asked her, looking serious.

"Yes," she said quickly, feeling her heart beating a bit faster, realizing this sounded a bit like a fantasy she'd shared with Fred. She felt a number of things in that moment: anticipation, hope, a bit of fear and gratitude for finding a way to pull her attention to him.

"You know I won't hurt you, or do anything you don't want?" he said, looking a bit anxious for a moment.

"Yes, Fred," she said, her heart full.

"If you want to break, just say, I dunno, toffee. If you want to stop, then say flowers."

"Right. Toffee for a break, flowers to stop," she repeated. Then she touched his arm and added, "Thank you."

He merely nodded. "Take off your robe."

Hermione obeyed. One order at a time, Fred directed Hermione, undressing her, caressing her, and generally distracting her with his commands. She gave herself up to his lead, focusing only on his voice and what he was telling her to do. Whenever she began to be distracted, her thoughts beginning to revert to unpleasant topics, Fred recalled her to the present with a sharp smack or three to her arse. Hermione would blush to ever admit it, but found the entire experience highly arousing, even begging him at one point to continue smacking her, which he did until she felt nearly breathless and finally gasped out the word 'toffee' feeling certain her arse must be red and swollen from the spanking.

Once she had regained her breath, but before she could begin to think again, Fred gently encouraged her to lay out on the bed, and he bound her securely in place, making her moan with desire. He was devious and cruel, touching every inch of her skin, ensuring that she could not possibly be thinking about anything other then where he would touch next and wondering whether this would be what would send her over the edge. Fred's voice was all she could focus on as her world narrowed to the point of their bodies joining together again and again, and when he whispered in her ear that he wanted to hear her scream his name, she complied as her orgasm washed over her, and he followed.

Carefully, he released her from her bonds, and she snuggled against him, her mind blissfully blank, her body sated. She smiled sleepily up him, and he smiled back.

"Thank you," she said.

"My pleasure," he responded. "Just you and me, love."

Fred toyed with a lock of her hair and Hermione traced a pattern on his chest.

"I feel a bit embarrassed," she admitted.

"Because you enjoyed being told what to do? Because you enjoyed a spanking?" he asked.

"Yes. It feels like it should be demeaning or something," she said.

"Love, that's silly. If I thought that all you were was something to be ordered about, or that I had the right to smack you around without regard to your enjoyment, that would be demeaning. Letting go of control in the bedroom now and then is hardly the same thing."

"It was nice not to have to think for awhile," Hermione said wistfully.

"Anytime, Hermione," Fred said. "It was fun for me too. You've got a really fabulous arse, you know."

"Well, I'll remember this the next time I start thinking about that hag," she said, sounding rueful.

"She doesn't matter," Fred said in stalwart tones, and for the moment, Hermione was inclined to agreed.

If she were entirely honest, her fears were not dismissed, merely pushed far enough to the side that she was able to step back from them. There was something in all of this, and Hermione knew in her bones that Umbridge was related to it. But she couldn't let that suspicion overrule her peace or the harmony that existed between her and Fred. Their life together deserved better. It was hard not to dwell on it, but Hermione simply returned her focus to the physical, leaning up to kiss Fred on the lips, deeply.

"And what," she asked softly, "are your plans for the rest of the afternoon?"

"Not clear, but I can tell you with great certainty that they do not involve straying terribly far from you or this bed." Fred began to nuzzle at the sensitive spot behind Hermione's ear.

"Excellent news," she breathed. "I'm afraid I will need a lot more distraction."

"Not a problem, love," Fred said shortly, and soon they were involved in more intimate contact that carried Hermione further and further away from her tortured thoughts and doubts. They weren't banished, perhaps, but they were at least locked away for the moment, which was all she could ask for.

-o0o-

_A/N: Yes, I know, it's more than a bit angst-y. But try to view it from Hermione's perspective; there is something inherently frightening about all the uncertainty that surrounds them right now. Another chapter will be up soon, and the outline is fully completed to the end. I'm excited about where this is headed. We're going to be in the home stretch soon. I hope this gives you something to chew on, at least. I so appreciate all the feedback - I love this story a lot, as is probably evidenced by the sheer amount of time I've stuck with it, and it's so flattering and ego-boosting to find other people enjoy it too. Hope everyone is well - cheers!_


	25. Chapter 25

_Disclaimer- These characters belong to JK Rowling, Warner Bros, and so on, rather than to me, more is the pity. I play with them and you see the results. No copyright infringement intended, no profit is made._

-o0o-

Chapter 25

-o0o-

George settled back into his favorite chair, and propped his feet on the coffee table, sighing in satisfaction. Fred grinned at the sight.

"Just the two of us. Been ages, eh?" George said comfortably.

He then jumped as he heard Hermione's voice sternly say, "Feet off the table!" before realizing it was Fred performing an eerily accurate impression of his wife, given away by his inability not to laugh at his brother's reaction.

"Trying out the new Mockingbird Mints, eh? Glad to see you worked out the kinks of cross-gender mimicry," George said dryly, a rueful grin on his face.

"Indeed, brother. Need to lengthen the amount of time they last, though. Never realized you were that frightened of my wife, mate," Fred said, not bothering to hide his amusement, his voice already returned to normal.

"It's not that I'm afraid of her, exactly," George said defensively. "I just don't see the need to antagonize her all the time."

"Sure, if that's what you want to tell yourself," Fred laughed, and then reached for the pizza box on the coffee table.

Hermione was at Shell Cottage with Angelina, Ginny, Molly and a handful of Penelope's colleagues and friends for her hen night, leaving the twins alone in the flat for the evening, Percy's stag do having been held over the weekend. It was pleasant to spend time just as they used to do, even down to George's making a trip to a run-down pizzeria on the muggle side of London because he'd burned the eggs he was doing up for dinner.

"You seem in good spirits, it's a nice change," George said casually, taking a swig of the lager in his hands.

Fred's mouth turned down at the corner, and he grunted. "I know. We've been off since she went to King with her theories."

"Still hung up about Umbridge?"

Fred nodded and sighed a bit. "Yes. She tries, really she does. She tries so hard not to let it bother her, but there is something there, some reason she can't just let it go and I can't understand it. It's illogical, which is just oddly out of character for Hermione . Even if she is right, and mind, we have no actual reason to believe that she is, but even if she is right, what possible difference can it make at this point in time?"

"You are married, no going back now," George confirmed.

"Precisely my point to her! It's not as if we aren't happy! But she can't let it go and the longer it goes on, the more, I dunno, resentful I feel that she can't just be content with me," Fred said, a frown on his face.

"It is still Hermione, Forge. She's got to process things until she's really comfortable," George said knowingly.

"I know. I'm trying to be patient," Fred said, slumping a bit in his chair. "But it's not easy. It's like she simply can't trust in us, that she is afraid of being happy or something, I dunno."

"That sounds pretty serious, brother. I hadn't got the sense it was all that bad. You've seemed relatively normal these past few days."

"I know. And we are, mostly. It's just not quite the same as it was. Not like we're having big dramatic scenes or whatever, it's just that something is there, between us, that wasn't before." Fred shook his head abruptly and said, "Enough. It's not bad. Just a bump to work through, right? Like you said, she'll toss it over until she's sorted it out for herself and we'll be fine."

He finished off his beer and reached for the firewhiskey, but was forestalled by George's hasty change of subjects.

"So, what are we going to do to Percy, then? I thought about leaving him be, but I think he'd just be hurt. It is his wedding, after all."

"Being round the muggles makes it harder," Fred mused. He and George both looked thoughtful, then mischievous, and they looked at one another with evil grins and said in eerie synchronisation, "Shrinking pants."

"Brill. But not too quick, mind," Fred warned.

"Oh, leave it to me, brother. He'll be furious and pleased. And uncomfortable." The twins laughed together and drank to their admittedly childish prank.

Quiet fell, and George broke the quiet, broaching a topic that they hadn't really spoken about recently, though both knew it was coming. "So, Alicia is moving in with Lee next."

"Right. I understand they finally settled on green for their bedroom," Fred responded, some of the light and humour slipping off his face.

"I was thinking, if it's not bad timing for you, that I would probably take Friday morning off and get my stuff moved over to Angie's. That'll leave us the weekend to get things ordered, like, since she's off then. I'll be back before noon." George carefully didn't look at his brother as he said this.

"Right, yeah, no problem," Fred said, keeping his voice light, pretending they were discussing who would take the next round of brewing catch-up. His effort fell flat, and they were quiet.

"I'll still see you every day, y'know," George said quickly. "I mean, we'll eat two meals a day together, and I'll still stay over on my nights to brew and when Ange's out of town."

"Right, I know, Gred. Not really different from now, is it? You spend half your nights at Angie's anyway. Just moving some clothes and things over, then, aren't you?" Fred tried to smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Precisely. Though I'm sure you'll appreciate having more time alone with your wife," George offered.

"That is true. She doesn't trust silencing charms, won't generally get terribly wild when you're about," Fred agreed.

"There you go then," George said cheerfully, tipping his drink towards his brother in toast, and Fred couldn't help but grin. They ate and drank in companionable silence for a short time until Fred remembered something important.

"You never did tell me because of the little bugger trying to knick the whizbangs, but what did Percy tell you earlier when he stopped by?"

George rolled his eyes. "Just Percy being officious, giving Hermione and me an update on the status of the investigation. As if I couldn't just ask Dad like you did Sunday. Not much has changed. They are still gathering intelligence on Ron and on both the Canons and the Greengrasses. It's slow going because they are trying to limit access so it can't be pieced together."

"This is really frustrating, this sitting and waiting. Nothing has happened in over a month now. Maybe we've been wrong all along," Fred mused aloud, his gaze unseeing as he considered this.

"That box was real, as were those dead weasles and the attempts to breach the wards," George said, totally serious. "Just because there hasn't been incident since we put up the Fidelius and Bill got that archway in place doesn't mean that there wasn't and isn't something fishy."

"I know," Fred sighed. "I'm just tired of it all dragging on. It seems like nothing has happened except for talking round in circles of paranoia."

"Well, Percy seemed optimistic about their research into the Greengrasses, so maybe something will turn up there. He's encouraged us to continue thinking about how control over Ron could be broken, because he thinks that may be our best chance in the end."

"Right. Well, we'll get on that, eh? It's just hard to spend a ton of time on experimental antidotes to potions or spells we're only speculating about, particularly with Christmas right round the corner," Fred said wryly. Lazily, he banished the now empty pizza box to the kitchen.

"True, but I did make a start," George said. "Ran into problems when I tried adding orange oil. Thought it might work to counteract thistle, but it congealed immediately. I saved it, because it smelled so nice, but it'll do fuck all as a block to the _Imperius_ curse."

"Orange oil? Interesting. Maybe we should try lemon zest instead, still has the essence of invigorating oil, but will take longer to draw it out of the peel."

And with that, the brothers fell into a discourse revolving around various potions ingredients and preparation, a familiar and friendly argument with just a touch of brotherly rivalry. Any lingering distress Fred had felt about being confronted with Hermione's doubts and the imminent departure of his twin to a new life in which Fred would play a smaller role evaporated with the reminder that though things changed, they also stayed the same.

-o0o-

Despite the reunification with his family, only his parents attended the actual ceremony that bound Percy to Penelope. He had explained, in person, to each family member that he felt it was only fair because none of Penny's family were allowed to attend, since they were muggles. Barring, of course, the special dispensation they had received from the Minister for her parents.

For Hermione, it was something of a relief. Try as she did, there was still a piece of her that was unreconciled to the news they had heard. Something about watching two people who had the choice offered to them bind themselves did not suit Hermione's mood at present. Maybe that is all this was for her, lingering resentment and rebellion about the fact that she'd been forced to marry at all, which was completely separate from her feelings about her husband.

She knew Fred did not understand her disquiet, but he didn't speak of it. Nor did she. It was undeniable that a coolness had entered their relationship. Oh, it wasn't so overt, it was barely even enough to register consciously, but it seemed to her as if Fred had drawn back just the tiniest bit from her, that her inability to let the past simply be the past had hurt him in some small, undefinable way. It was such a tiny crack that she didn't begin to know how to address it or fix it. Hermione wasn't sure there was anything properly to fix, or if it might only be a projection of her guilt over it all. Fred did act the same as usual, was as affectionate as ever, as interested in sex and as gently teasing and sly and warm as before.

There was just the slightest of hesitations at odd moments, strange expressions that crossed his face which were the only indicators of a mind with any trouble beyond the obvious threats that still hung over them. Hermione didn't pursue it, however. The more time that passed, the less she hoped any of it mattered.

Shaking herself from her reverie, she finished pulling up her stockings. It was far too chilly in December in London to go about bare-legged, and she did wish to wear the lovely plum wool suit she'd picked out when she and Ginny had enjoyed an increasingly rare girls afternoon to ensure Ginny had appropriately muggle attire to wear to the luncheon reception that Penny's parents were hosting. She had ultimately been consulted by nearly every member of the family about wardrobe, just to be sure. The Weasley's knew that in muggle surroundings, they were likely to stick out as a strange lot, and any attention they could deflect by means of wearing appropriate attire was to their benefit.

"Hermione, have you any idea where my blue tie is?" came Fred's disembodied voice.

"Probably in the wardrobe, would you like me to look?" she called back.

"Yes, please and ta," he replied. Hermione stepped over to Fred's wardrobe and began flipping through the ties until she located the one she thought he wanted, which she carefully withdrew and laid on the bed. That done, she slipped into her skirt and pulled on the lavender silk camisole that she was wearing beneath the suit jacket. She started a bit when Fred's arms snaked around her and he nuzzled her neck.

"You look good enough to eat," he murmured.

"Mmm, thanks," she replied, twisting in her arms so she could admire his charcoal suit trousers and pale gray shirt. "You're looking quite smart."

"I had good help picking this out, y'know," he said, a trifle smugly.

Hermione smiled at him. "Well, you are quite the lucky fellow, aren't you?"

"Indeed, I am," Fred said, holding her close for a moment, then almost against his will, releasing her. "We're going to be running low on time if we don't hurry. You nearly ready?"

"Yes, just need to finish my hair and make-up."

Fred began tying his tie, as Hermione slipped into the bathroom. By the time Fred was done with his tie, Hermione's hair was tucked into a modest up-do, and she was quickly lining her eyes. She was blotting her lipstick as he found his shoes and he couldn't help but appreciate the efficient way Hermione managed cosmetic charms.

She slipped her shoes on, and then her suit jacket, before turning to Fred for his opinion. She was pleased when it came in the form of a long, low whistle, and couldn't hide her smile. George and Angelina were waiting in the lounge for them, looking dapper as well. Quickly, they donned appropriate outer wear and Fred carefully set the wards, and they apparated to a conveniently out of the way alley near the Armoury House.

Bill and Fleur had already arrived, and were making pleasant conversation with some of Penelope's relatives. As the group approached, they saw Charlie and Victor had likewise arrived, and were talking in the corner of the room with Harry and Ginny, no doubt about Quidditch, judging from their clear isolation and low tones, but clear excitement. Hermione rolled her eyes a bit, but smiled when Harry waved excitedly. The wedding couple and their parents were not yet present, and Ron and Daphne were likewise absent.

"Which way do you want to go then?" Fred whispered, nodding between the group in the corner and his eldest brother.

"Oh, honestly, I know which direction you'd prefer. You go ahead. I'll be fine with Bill and Fleur," Hermione said with an indulgent smile, before reaching up on her toes to kiss his cheek. "Go on, I'll catch you up when it's time to eat."

Fred hesitated a moment, but then joined his twin and brother and sister, along with their significant others. Hermione stepped over to Fleur, and they brushed each other's cheeks with kisses, and she received a hug from Bill before being introduced to a young couple who introduced themselves as Penny's cousins. There was some chat about where in London they lived, though Hermione glossed over Diagon Alley, and what sort of work they did, just saying she worked with her husband in their shop which she vaguely said sold specialty items. They had a genial discussion about the prices of petrol, about London weather and were getting round to which football clubs they supported when Percy and Penny arrived.

The room had filled while the small group had been talking; Hermione noted warily that Ron and Daphne had arrived, and several other people who were clearly related to Penny. There was a general cheer when the couple appeared, flanked by their parents. Penny was wearing a smart cream suit and hat, carrying a small bouquet of blue hydrangeas and creamy roses, and Percy looked quite neat and proper in his crisp, black suit with cream tie and rose boutonniere. Arthur and Molly were beaming, even as Arthur looked about him with unconcealed delight at the thoroughly muggle setting, and Penelope's parents looked happy, though a bit overwhelmed. Hermione could well imagine the trip through the Ministry's offices and the binding ceremony they had witnessed could be a bit much to take in.

Hermione felt a presence slip in beside her, and leaned back into her husband, even as he slid an arm around her waist. Percy had one of Penny's hands clasped in his, but he raised the other and the crowd quieted.

After clearing his throat a bit ostentatiously, he said, "Welcome everyone! Thank you all for coming to celebrate our marriage. Penelope and I are grateful you could make it, despite our small civil ceremony. I hope you can find your seats and enjoy lunch."

That said, Percy and Penny made their way through the crowd gathered to congratulate them and wish them well. Hermione saw George and Fred exchange tiny nods, and saw George slip his wand out into his hand as unobtrusively as possible, and as Fred and Hermione greeted the newlywed couple with hugs and kisses, she knew George had cast some sort of nonverbal spell and pocketed his wand before anyone else could notice. As Fred led Hermione towards their seats (mercifully near Charlie and Victor), she leaned in to whisper to her husband.

"Don't think I missed that. What did you two do?"

Rather than looking at all chastised, Fred gave her a wholly unrepentant grin. He quickly whispered back, "Shrinking pants, course."

"At his wedding reception? For Merlin's sake," Hermione hissed in his ear, shooting George a dirty look which he pretended not to see. He was given away, however, by his inability to keep his face still, when a smile threatened to break through.

They took their seats and Fred leaned over, to all appearances, nuzzling her neck in a gesture of affection, while whispering, "If we didn't prank Percy at his wedding, he'd be hurt and take it as a sign that we were indifferent to him. It's a long history, love. It shows our affection."

Hermione gave a small sigh, and said, "Fine." But secretly, she was touched by the gesture. Remembering the large mural of family pictures behind Percy's desk in his office, she rather thought they might be correct about that. Giving up the scolding, she turned to her brother-in-law and his boyfriend and asked how things were going with their new living arrangements. Conversation was pleasant, as Hermione and Victor chatted about his home, and Charlie weighed in on the changes he was making to the décor. Hermione was pleased by how much more relaxed Charlie seemed with Victor this time round, and how much more at ease they seemed with each other.

Lunch was filled with an abundance of good food, and Percy had wisely kept the two groups as quietly separate as possible to avoid his wife's family finding his own too terribly odd. Hermione noticed a raised eyebrow or two, but on the whole, the families seemed to be comfortable enough together, and the celebratory mood eased any tension. She had to look away to keep from any expression when she noticed Percy start to shift uncomfortably in his seat, and she couldn't meet Fred or George's eyes when she saw Percy begin to glare at them, because as juvenile as she found their prank, she couldn't help the laughter that tried to burble up into her throat.

The glee on the twin's faces was a dead give away to the rest of the family, who began to watch Percy's clear squirming in an effort to figure out what was going on. Penelope noticed too, and whispered to him, and had to hide her smile with her napkin. The look she gave the twins was soft and approving, even as Percy finally excused himself to find a way to cancel the charm.

Hermione leaned into her husband and whispered, "You did make it so he could end the shrinking, didn't you?"

Fred gave her a full, happy smile and shook his head. "Now, where is the fun in that? No, I expect he will find that _finite incantatum _is likely to make them shrink more quickly. He'll probably have to do without pants entirely."

"Fred, you two are horrid," Hermione said, but her voice lacked conviction and Fred merely put his arm around her and kissed her cheek.

Percy returned, with a faint blush on his cheeks, and a glare for George, who gave him a big wink and smug grin. Try as he might, Percy couldn't keep his lips from twitching in response, but instead, he clinked his knife against his glass, and gathered everyone's attention to himself.

"I just wanted to thank everyone again for coming to celebrate with us today. And since we were limited on our guests at the ceremony, we thought it might be nice if Penelope and I repeated our vows before all our family here, because you all are so important to us. Penny, do you want to go first?"

She gave him a brilliant, gentle smile, and allowed him to help her up. She took both of Percy's hands in hers, and facing him, said in her clear, gentle voice, "Percival, you are my own noble knight, courageous and seeking truth and justice. You have always sheltered me and cared for me, and I am proud to be bound in marriage with you. I promise to be your friend and partner, through all the fortunes of our lives."

Hermione felt her eyes mist, and her hand crept along towards Fred's, who gave it an understanding squeeze as his brother spoke.

"Penelope, you are my steady beacon after long travels. You are as cunning as Homer's creature, as loyal and steadfast and serene a woman as I could ever find. I love your sweetness and your creativity, and I am proud to be bound in marriage with you. I promise to be your friend and partner, through all the fortunes of our lives."

There was a beat of silence, as the couple had eyes only for each other, but then the room exploded with applause and cheering. In the midst of it, Hermione felt a lump in her throat, and as if he knew, Fred turned to her, and pulled her to him reassuringly.

"I love you so much, Mione, never forget it," he said in a low voice only she could hear. She could only nod, and give him a smile that was free, for a moment, of any anxiety or concern – a glowing, loving, happy expression, which he could feel echoed on his own face.

The applause seemed to recall the newly wedded couple to their surrounding, and Penelope blushed, but turned to the assembled guests. "I want to repeat what my husband said. Thank you all for coming here today, and for your love and support. Percy and I are blessed and lucky to have such wonderful family surround us every day. Now, then, who wants cake?"

Laughter filled the room, and Percy and Penny cut the cake and carefully fed it to each other. As they were laughingly cutting cake to distribute to everyone else, Hermione was distracted by Fred and George whispering to each other, and then by Fred leaning into Hermione to share George's information.

"Oi, Angie can get extra tickets for the family box at Wimbourne for Thursday, when Chudley plays them. I know Mum and Dad are going to see Ron, and sitting in the visitor's family box with Charlie and Viktor. Bill and Fleur are on for it too. You want to come? I'd like to go, but not without you. George reckoned we could have drinks with everyone before the match, and maybe dinner after. What d'you think?"

Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment, then shrugged. "I don't mind a Quidditch match now and then, and I haven't seen Ron or Angie in a real match. Sounds a good excuse to get out and about for an evening."

"Brill," Fred replied, and he did look genuinely pleased. Hermione found herself feeling a flicker of excitement at the prospect. If nothing else, it would be nice to spend an evening out. Nothing had happened for some time, and something to distract from the worry and theories sounded just the thing.

-o0o-

"Dress warmly," Fred warned. "There are climate charms, but it's still outdoors. You'll want layers."

Hermione gave a sarcastic little salute in response. "Thank goodness, I'd never have thought of that myself."

"Right, sorry, just trying to be helpful," Fred muttered.

Hermione closed her eyes and took a slow breath. "I'm sorry. That was snappish, and unnecessary. I appreciate the advice, I will wear layers."

"I just want you to enjoy yourself. I know Quidditch isn't your favorite thing," Fred said, a bit timidly.

Hermione stepped over to Fred, and slipped her arms round his waist. "I don't hate Quidditch! I really enjoyed the World Cup. I just don't understand a lot of the intricacies of it, and was always worried about Harry or Ron being hurt. And I don't follow the league closely, and I am the only person besides Percy and Penny who didn't play at Hogwarts or beyond, so I just don't have anything to add to the discussion. But even if all of that weren't true, I would enjoy it because it is a nice change to get out of the house and spend an evening with you and George, and Bill and Fleur, yeah?"

Fred kissed her forehead and smiled. "Yeah, all right. I'm looking forward to it as well. You'll be ready in a few?"

"Yes, just need to finish dressing and fix my hair," she responded.

"Right, then I'll leave you to it." Fred moved away, pulling a jumper over his head on his way out of the room. Hermione changed into a long sleeved shirt and added a jumper, braided her hair quickly to keep it out of her face, and located her gloves, which she shoved into the back pocket of her denims before joining Fred in the lounge.

"You look nice. I like your hair like that," he commented idly, doing up his outer coat. "Got your Wimbourne scarf?"

"Yes," she confirmed, looping it round her neck after she'd buttoned up her overcoat. "Where are we meeting for drinks?"

"Three Broomsticks. See you there?" At her nod, he turned on the spot and disappeared with a crack. She made certain the wards were set and then followed suit.

They met at the end of the street, and Hermione shivered in the frigid Scottish air. Fred wrapped his long arm about her shoulders, pulling her close and rubbing her arm bracingly as they walked briskly to the cheerfully lit pub. Fred greeted Madam Rosmerta, as they skirted the tables to the booth where George and Charlie sat, half-finished drinks before them.

"Oi, 'bout time you lot appeared," Charlie boomed in greeting. "George said you were probably shagging in the workroom again, and he wasn't about to walk in on that."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Not shagging in the workroom. Just trying to bottle up the elixirs I brewed this afternoon so we didn't have to wake at the crack of dawn with terrible hangovers to do it, as George well knows." She gave her brother-in-law her trademark stern glare, but it worked no more on him than on her husband and he merely chuckled and winked at her.

"Where's Viktor?" Fred inquired.

"Be here shortly," Charlie said, his cheeks tinged with pink. "If I'd realized sooner how ridiculously convenient the international floo would be, I'd've shacked up with him sooner. This is nearly as good as being at the reservation in Wales."

"So we'll be seeing you at Sunday dinners then, eh?" Fred teased.

"Er, probably not every week. But maybe more than once in a blue moon," Charlie said.

"So, you're off to support Ron and Chudley tonight then?" George asked. "Angelina told me to tell you she feels horribly betrayed by your switching allegiances."

Charlie laughed. "Not at all, even for baby brother. I support him, of course, but mostly it's a chance for Mum and Dad to get to know Viktor a bit more. Besides, it would get a bit crowded in your box and I didn't want to put Angelina out for tickets. We'll come another game to show support. I'll even wear yellow."

"Such sacrifices he is willing to make for family," came a new voice, in a tone of mock despair.

"Hullo, Bill! Fleur!" George called. "Glad you were able to come!"

"And how much have you consumed already?" Bill asked in a friendly way.

"Oi, big brother, none of your concern," George said cheerfully. "I can apparate well enough. Have a drink, we've got a half-hour yet before we need to be there."

"Red wine for me, _cherie_," Fleur said. "Are Molly and Arthur joining us?"

"No, they've had dinner with the Greengrasses, and will go with Daphne to the box," Charlie said, and then his face lit up as he saw his boyfriend enter the pub.

Fleur greeted her former competitor with pleasure, and Hermione kissed Viktor's cheek with a friendly smile. A well matched group, conversation was lively and everyone seemed to enjoy this time together. Pleasantly warm and tipsy, they left the pub together, calling cheery good-byes to Rosmerta, and this time, Hermione remembered to don her gloves. They apparated in pairs, as Hermione, Fleur and Viktor had not ever been to Wimbourne, but it was a short, if uncomfortable journey.

George waved Charlie and Viktor off in the direction of the visitor's boxes, and then guided his brothers and sisters-in-law around to the home boxes, and into one of the lavish boxes reserved for family. The view was spectacular and Hermione could appreciate the set-up. They were located half-way up the stadium, and it appeared their box was connected to several others of similar size and privacy.

"They keep four of these in reserve, and they link up to a central reception area there, d'you see?" George said enthusiastically. "Angie swapped tickets so we could all pile in, everyone gets a certain number per season."

"It's a nice stadium," Bill said appreciatively. "Don't think I've been here since they renovated things after the cup."

"These boxes are top, as well," George nodded. "Help yourselves to the spread. I'm going to say hullo to the others and I'll be back before the start." He made his way into the other boxes and Bill, Fleur, Hermione and Fred helped themselves to warming drinks and nibbles, and gathered their omnioculars so they could watch the action up close. George returned just as the teams were being announced, as he'd promised, and everyone generally made themselves comfortable in the oversized chairs and couches provided for the luxury boxes.

Fred pulled Hermione onto a couch beside him, whispering, "Here, now you can ask if you've any questions as the play is happening, and maybe I can explain some of the strategy a bit more. Might make it more enjoyable, like."

Hermione shrugged. "Sure, why not? I understand the basics, of course. I've read Quidditch Through the Ages, and I watched all the matches at Hogwarts."

"It's a lot more enjoyable when you know more. Then you can really appreciate the play, see? Otherwise, you're mostly just watching people fly about, which would get boring eventually. There is a lot to watch with Chasers, but beaters have some tricksy plays too."

"Right," George chimed in, though his gaze was glued to the pitch, where the teams were flying a final warm-up lap and maneuvering into place for the start of the game. "Obviously, we like to watch the beaters because we know more about what is possible and what good bludger play looks like. Least, I like to when Ange isn't in the air. Wasps should take the Cannons, but there is no denying the Cannons are far better than recent years and they need the win more to have a chance at the winter finals. They haven't been this far up the table since Ron was a titchy little thing."

"I was always partial to the chasers," Fleur contributed. "It looked like the most fun and some of the passes are _magnifique_."

"Keepers have a unique place as well, to be fair to our baby brother," Bill said. "It takes a lot of nerve and strong intuition to guess which hoop they'll aim for, and athleticism to move quickly enough to block in time and get the quaffle back to your team. And dodge bludgers as well."

"And they're off!" George muttered, all attention now intently focused on the Wasps' chasers. The chasers quickly stole possession of the quaffle, and Hermione was impressed to see their tight formation flying, the quaffle a mere blur as they attempted a dangerous game of keep away that delighted the home stadium.

Angelina ended up with the quaffle approaching the goals, and was squaring off against Ron. She had the advantage of years of back-yard games over him, though, and knew how best to fake him out, and managed a neat toss through the hoop at a backwards angle. Through the omnioculars Hermione could see the anger on Ron's face. Possession passed back to Chudley, but a well-timed and beautifully placed bludger broke up their formation, allowing Angie's fellow chaser Harris to dart in and snatch the Quaffle again. Though they quickly reached the goals again, this time Harris had the quaffle and was unable to get free for a clear shot, and Ron had a good read and quick responses to make the save. Chudley scored shortly after, thanks to one of their beaters forcing Wasps keeper McLeod back and clearing the left hoop for an easy shot. All of that had taken place in about a minute and a half, and Hermione found it was more engaging as Fred maintained a low commentary, pointing out to here how the players positioned and repositioned themselves, how the beaters for the Wasps worked in tandem, and how the Keepers gauged their opponents, and even how the seekers systematically searched for the snitch while at the same time doing their best to interrupt passes and distract the beaters from the chasers.

From what Hermione could tell, Ron's beloved Canons were indeed better than previous seasons, but it was clear they were outmatched against the Wasps; she supposed being consistently in the top third of the league would create that effect. She was impressed with Angelina, and told George so. Her brother in law beamed at her. Everyone seemed to be enjoying the match, though it was clear that the only hope Chudley had was that their seeker tumbled onto the snitch quickly, despite Ron keeping out at least twice as many goals as slipped through.

"Well, he's a damned sight better than Smythe-Jones. Against a chaser group that were less elite than Angelina and the lot, Ron's quite good," Bill said as the Wasps called for timeout to asses their beater, who had just taken a bludger to his beating arm, which both twins had winced to see.

"Yes, he's improved a great deal since Hogwarts," Hermione said thoughtfully. "His confidence is much higher, for one thing."

"How long do you think it'll go, Bill?" Fleur asked, looking a bit tired.

"Haven't spotted the snitch at all, so it could be a long one, but that's the luck of it," Bill said with a shrug.

Play quickly resumed with a substitution so that the wounded beater could be healed by the team's healer, and there was nothing spotted over the next hour, until a murmur when through the crowd. The golden snitch had been spotted, near Ron's goals, no less, and the seekers were in pursuit. The remaining team members quickly made way, but play never stopped just because the seekers were on the move; there was too much uncertainty with the snitch. Angelina stole the quaffle, and holding it close to her body performed a tight maneuver to circle round on her broom. Just as she was reaching back to throw the quaffle towards Ron's center hoop, the snitch appeared seemingly from thin air, and Angelina was slammed into by Chudley's seeker as he reached for the game-ending piece. The move was unexpected and she was off-balance and unable to avoid the collision.

The crowd gasped in horror as Angelina Johnson fell from her broom, while at the same moment, at the middle of the pitch, the Wasps' seeker held a golden snitch tightly in his hands. Hands clapped over her face in horror, Hermione looked at George's ashen face, as he watched his fiance plummet towards the ground.

-o0o-

_A/N: Oh dear. Well, something has finally happened now, hasn't it? _

_I am rolling towards the end. It looks like, based on current outlines, this is going to end up around 34 chapters, so we're in the home stretch. I hope you have enjoyed this. It's going to be a wild ride to the end. Please take a moment to let me know what you are thinking. I'm still swinging back into the saddle after a long hiatus and feel a bit self-conscious about my writing at times. I so appreciate everyone who has added this story to their alerts or favorites (I am in absolute shock that this story has broken 200,000 views. Mind-boggling!) - however, the only way any author can be certain about how their work is received is by receiving reviews. We authors are needy for them! I hope very much you've enjoyed this, and aren't terribly angry over such a cliff-hanger. Cheers, all! I hope you enjoy a spooky (but treat filled) Halloween!_


	26. Chapter 26

_Disclaimer: The characters, universe, and backstory plot all belong to much more successful and prominent people than me. This is for pleasure, not profit._

-o0o-

Chapter 26

-o0o-

The stadium personnel trained for these situations, and one managed to slow Angelina's descent, and another cast a cushioning charm before she hit the ground, but it was still a gruesome sight. There was silence in the stadium as the team healers rushed to the form lying still on the grass of the pitch. The remainder of the players all flew down as well, huddling around their fallen teammate and opponent. It was always a risk, Quidditch, and no one wanted to see such an occurrence.

George, pale as a ghost, was standing at the edge of the box straining for a glimpse of something to indicate that Angie was well, or would be. Hermione was still covering her mouth in horror, and Fleur was crying quietly into Bill's shoulder. Fred, though, had the bright idea to use the omnioculars so he could zoom into the scene. He could see Angie's chest rising and falling, and her eyes were open, though she was not otherwise moving.

"George, she's breathing and her eyes are open. She's responding to their questions," Fred said urgently.

"Oh thank Merlin," Hermione whispered.

"Thanks," George said shortly, still watching the pitch.

"She's sitting up," Fred called. "Georgie, she's moving. I think she's broken a leg though, maybe some ribs. Her right side seems stiff."

George closed his eyes and seemed to sag. He watched as the healers conjured a stretcher and carefully moved her onto it, then turned towards his brother. As George had done so often for him, Fred held his brother tightly as George buried his face into Fred's shoulders and cried. Hermione wrapped an arm around George, and Bill and Fleur did the same.

"She's going to be ok, George," Fred said soothingly. "Just a fall from her broom, happens all the time. She's fine. Moving about, everything."

"Merlin, I thought she was -" George choked.

"Angie's fine. She'll be fine," Bill said firmly.

A knock at the box startled them. George hastily wiped his eyes as a team representative that George seemed to know cleared his throat.

"Mr. Weasley? Ms. Johnson's been taken into our team facilities, and she's asking for you. They're going to send her to St. Mungo's for treatment."

"How bad does it look, Thomas?" George asked.

"She's banged up, of course, a few broken bones. Looks like cracked ribs from the initial collision, probably broken leg as well, and they think her shoulder is dislocated. But she's awake, though she asked if Weller got the snitch after all, so they are checking for concussion. St. Mungo's is to be sure there was no internal damage from the broken ribs and the fall."

"Right," George said. "I've got to go."

"Of course," Bill said. "You want us to wait here, or something else?"

"Let me go and you lot head home until we figure out what is happening with her. No sense in hanging around here or in the hospital waiting room," George said, seeming to regain some measure of equilibrium now that he had some word. "She'll be angry that the Canons won afterall."

"But they didn't," Thomas said indignantly. "MacAllen caught the snitch at midfield. I'm not even sure what Weller was doing down at the end. The snitch was spotted near Chudley's goalposts and then darted almost directly midfield. I heard the referees arguing over whether they should call a penalty on Weller for slamming into Johnson."

"But there was a snitch, I saw it," Hermione said, sounding bewildered. "I was focused on Angelina with the omnioculars, it appeared right beside her."

The Wasps official stared at her as if she were mad, but a disturbance on the pitch caught their attention. Yellow-clad and orange-clad players were bumping up against one another, voices raised, though they couldn't be distinguished in the box. A referee in the middle tried vainly to dispel the quarrel, while two others huddled over a book.

George turned away impatiently. "I'm going to see Angie. I'll send word, yeah?" He strode through the box with Thomas and was quickly out of sight.

"You're right, Hermione," Fred said, after a moment. He'd been fiddling with the omnioculars this whole time. "Look." He handed the pair to Hermione, and when she slowed the review down, she could clearly see a snitch appear near Angelina, followed by the Canon's seeker slamming into her in pursuit. She frowned and watched it a second time, then handed the omniocular to Bill for him to view.

"But they seem pretty clear that MacAllen caught the snitch," Hermione said.

"Yeah," Fred said darkly. "It would seem he did. Hence the fight on the pitch." Team officials were now holding back various players and it appeared punches had been thrown when Hermione was busy watching Angelina's accident. There was general unrest in the stadium, few people entirely certain what was happening, an ugly mood growing over the crowd.

Bill silently handed the viewers back his brother and shook his head. Before he could speak, the announcer spoke.

"There seems to be an unusual situation, possibly without precedent, even. Seeker MacAllen for the Wasps clearly caught a snitch in play, nearly simultaneous to Seeker Weller's catch of a second snitch in play at the time Chaser Johnson for the Wasps suffered a collision and fell from her broom. We have received word, by the way, that Chaser Johnson is doing well and thanks fans for their support. The officials are checking the snitches to see if it can be determined which snitch was illegally in play, and thusly, which seeker is credited with the winning catch. Fans are asked to remain in their seats whilst the officials confer over the rulebook."

Shouts rose up at the announcement, howls of outrage and bewilderment. Looks were exchanged, and there was a look of horror shared between Hermione and Fred as they both grasped the potential in a second, but before they could speak, Arthur and Molly Weasley were tumbling into the box, Charlie and Viktor on their heels, and Daphne came behind them, sporting her Canon gear and obviously uncomfortable being in the Wimbourne family boxes done up head to toe in Chudley orange. All were ashen and worried.

"We heard the announcement, but how is she?" Molly asked in a quivering voice. "And George? Is he well?"

"Scared the shite out of him, but he's holding up," Fred said bluntly. "Team official brought word, came to fetch him. She's conscious, and pretty badly banged up, but the safety precautions came through so it isn't as bad as it could be. Broken ribs, they think, broken leg and dislocated shoulder. They are sending her to St. Mungo's, and George said not to wait, he'll send word when he has it. She was asking for George and about who won the match."

"Thank goodness," Arthur murmured.

"What is this business about a second snitch?" Charlie asked, Viktor echoing him.

"There was a second snitch. It appears that the first sighting of the snitch near the goals led to it running midfield, where MacAllen caught it. But there was a second snitch that appeared right by Angelina, and Weller went for it, slamming Angelina off her broom in the process," Bill said unemotionally. Hermione held Arthur's eyes, and knew he had reached the same conclusion she had initially when he closed them briefly.

"Where on earth could that have come from?" Daphne asked, baffled. "How ridiculous. The pitch is protected with spells from anything the crowd could toss, and the players are checked for wands before they leave the tunnels."

"No idea," Fred said, a hint of bitterness in his voice, but then they were joined by other Wimbourne family members, finally willing to come through the central reception area to check and see if there was word yet. Fred was known to a few of them, and they addressed him primarily, and he repeated what they knew. Expressions of sympathy and relief were exchanged and then they retreated to the central area to give Angelina's guests privacy and chew over the unusual happenings of the game.

Hermione sidled closer to Arthur and spoke quietly. "I know how it looks, but I don't think it was him, necessarily. The snitch seemed to appear from thin air, and you'll see when you watch the play that Ron is focused on Angelina, trying to read which goal she'll throw for. I didn't see any movement that could be him releasing the snitch."

Fred joined them, wrapping an arm around her. "I saw the same thing. Bill can show you, Dad. But I also don't think it's coincidental that it happened right by Ron and just when Angie was in a precarious position."

"We will review it all. Ares help us, Games and Sports will have to be involved as well. If there weren't accusations about Chudley before, there will be now," Arthur said in a low voice, sounding entirely grim.

"Is this going to look bad for him?" Hermione asked, worriedly.

"Probably not more than coincidental, if the omniocular footage is accurate. But this is not good. It certainly isn't coincidental that a second snitch appeared. The idea that it could have been done specifically to hurt Angelina or another player, though, is far-fetched."

"Several of these incidents have been," Hermione said slowly. "The deadliest was the one with the least fanfare. Even so, Angelina is seriously injured. I know she'll be back to practice in a week with magical healing, but if the safety team hadn't been seamless . . ." She trailed off and shivered, and Fred looked immeasurably angry and frightened.

On the pitch, the teams were ushered back to their respective tunnels, and the fans began booing. The announcer returned and said, sounding a touch strained, "Ladies and gentlemen, the officials have determined that a second snitch was illegally introduced to the Quidditch pitch after the start of the game. Seeker MacAllen for Wimbourne caught the legitimate snitch in a fair catch seconds after Seeker Weller caught the illegal snitch. Because the snitch caught by Seeker Weller was illegal, the play is invalidated, and a penalty called for a hit against a Chaser on shot. That penalty is declined by Wimbourne, and the results of Seeker MacAllen's play stand. Wimbourne wins 370 to 130. The Wasps encourage all fans to fly home safely and come be part of the buzz when we play against the Tunstill Tornadoes next Tuesday!"

Whoops and cheers overtook the surly mood and Hermione could hear snatches of the Wimbourne's team song as fans began to file out of the stadium. Bill took the lead in dispersing the Weasleys, asking Fred to be sure someone updated them when there was news, and then leading Fleur out. Charlie and Viktor followed, Arthur and Molly and Daphne agreeing to return to the visitor boxes to wait for Ron to finish the post-game interviews and things. With nothing else to do, Fred and Hermione made their way to a reserved apparition point and returned to the empty flat.

There was little to say or do, except wait. Fred and Hermione were tense, Fred especially, and it seemed that time dragged until George finally reappeared, looking haggard. He went immediately to the kitchen cabinet where the firewhiskey was stored and poured himself a healthy measure, which he drank without a word to either of Fred or Hermione. Only after the second serving was gone and the third poured did he rejoin them in the lounge, looking nearly dead on his feet and collapsed into an arm chair.

"Right, so Angelina is not in great shape. They decided to transfer her to St. Mungo's for treatment, because there was some concern about her dislocated shoulder, and that there may have been damage to her spleen or liver. They got her over quickish and the healers did a pretty good of re-setting her shoulder. They've given her skelegro, and a sleeping potion, and are keeping her petrified tonight so everything can set and heal properly and then they'll evaluate soft-tissue damage in the morning. They think she will need one more night after in hospital for potions and massage, but she'll be fine. I've already talked to her parents, they're headed to the hospital, and you lot can visit tomorrow afternoon."

George sighed, and ran his hands through his shaggy hair before continuing.

"Really, she'll be fine. She was cracking jokes the entire time until the sleeping potion took hold, and they don't see any internal bleeding. They're just going to keep her to be sure that her spleen and liver are functioning correctly after all. Don't appear to be bleeding, but looks like some bruising. They just didn't want to do too much between having to setting her shoulder back in place and the skelegro. I'll be quite happy never to see that again."

"You should consider some dreamless sleep potion tonight as well," Hermione said softly. "Reliving it won't help anything, but getting some sleep so you can be cheerful for her tomorrow will help."

George tossed the last drink back quickly, then glared at the empty glass, his eyes growing less focused as he shrugged at Hermione's suggestion.

"Gred? What else is bothering you? It's not just the fall," Fred said slowly, watching his brother closely. He'd attended matches in which Angelina had been injured before, but never before had he been so protective of her or had this level of anger, which seemed to simmer just under his skin in such a palpable way. It took a moment for him to speak, but when he did, there was a sharpness to his angry voice.

"He could have killed her. Just one thing wrong and she could have snapped her neck."

"We're not convinced it was him," Hermione said quietly.

"What on earth do you mean?" George snapped. Fred didn't intervene, just tossed his brother the omniocularrs without comment.

George watched the scene unfold once, then rewound it and slowed it down again, and sighed in disgust. "Damned good thing for him."

"It's not that he couldn't be responsible somehow, but he wasn't the one who released the snitch," Hermione said quietly. "But he could have been linked somehow."

"Or it's been someone on the Canons all along," Fred commented. "I hadn't thought so, but it's possible. I still don't understand why they would take this approach."

"It is pretty weird. A second snitch?"

"Without knowing the motivation, it's hard to say. It's nearly impossible that Ron or anyone could have timed that in such a way that it would guarantee Angelina would somehow be injured. I would guess it was meant to be another warning, a sort of 'see what we can do' thing and Angelina being hit was just an unfortunate accident." Hermione said this carefully, but even so, George glowered.

"It doesn't matter why anymore. All that matters is who," George said decidedly.

"Agreed," said Fred, a staunch ally to his brother. "All this thinking in circles hasn't gotten us very far, and it's frustrating as all hell. Time to be a bit more active, brother."

"Yes, I think it's time we got Ronnikins to talk," George responded grimly.

"It's the only way I can see that we are likely to find out who is responsible," Hermione stated.

"So then. As of tomorrow, the only thing we do is figure out a way to get him out from whatever influence he's under. That's all that matters," George said.

"Yes," his brother agreed. "Because intentional or not, Angie was hurt, and the sooner we do something, the sooner we can stop this."

-o0o-

"It's too specific," Hermione argued.

George slammed the book in frustration. "For Godric's sake, Hermione! We want it to work!"

"Yes, but _think_ for a moment, George! You're trying to base it entirely on speculation. What if it's not a suggestibility potion at all? What if it's an _Imperius_ curse?"

"Mate, she's got a point," Fred said, tiredly. Some version of this argument had been flying for two days now, George's mood souring with each attempt. Truthfully, his mood was sour anyway, because Angelina had kicked him out of their flat, telling him he was hovering and she was fine and after being in hospital for three days, she just wanted a bit of bloody privacy.

"Then what precisely do you suggest?" George ground out.

"I suggest that we start with a mind strengthening potion. The sort of thing that is supposed to help defend against the _Imperius_ curse," she said with more patience than she really felt.

"The _Imperius_ curse is the strongest form of mind control that we're aware of," Fred said in a placating tone. "If we can create something viable to help ward that off, then it should be able to aid in resisting any sort of suggestibility curse or potion."

"Has there ever been anything specifically created in a potion based format to achieve such results?" George asked, a hint of belligerence in his voice.

"Possibly," Hermione said, a frown crossing her face. "I know I've read about something in passing, at any rate."

"Look, I think we all need a bit of a break, eh?" Fred said practically. "Georgie, would you like to get us some lunch, then? Take a bit of a walk? Hermione will do some more research, and maybe we'll have a fresh approach to give a go in an hour or two, yeah?"

"Fine," George sighed. Arguing with Hermione would advance them not at all, and she wasn't really the one he was angry at, when he was being honest. "Lee's got things covered. I could go for some pasties or an enormous sandwich, what d'you think?"

.

"Sandwich sounds lovely," Hermione said quickly. "I'd love roast beef and Havarti, what about you Fred?"

"Ham and swiss on rye, of course," he said. "What about you, Georgie?"

"Probably turkey and cheddar," he said, pondering the wealth of options. "Right, I'll go then. Hermione, anything you can find would help. I just hate feeling so useless."

"I know," Hermione said in a soft, sad voice as she watched him disappear. "Research then, hmm?"

"Sure, research. And maybe a quick shag. But mostly research." Fred winked at his wife, who simply rolled her eyes at his antics.

"I think you can head down to Flourish and Blotts to see if your mate has anything that might be useful, and I'll see if I can find that potion I remember on the shelves."

"Not even a short snog?" Fred whinged good-naturedly.

"Darling, if you are very well behaved, I'll consider it later. Right now, do you really want to antagonize your brother even more?" Hermione asked pointedly.

Fred's expression clouded over, and he ran his hands through his hair. "Fair point, that. No, I don't care to make him even angrier. Righto, I'll run down and see Lionel. I assume you're headed to the study?"

"Yes, I'm going to go back through the books I got from Dumbledore's office and see what I can find."

"I'll be back within half an hour then," Fred said, pulling on his dragon skin jacket and summoning his outerwear.

Left alone, Hermione went purposefully to the study, she stood thoughtfully before a particular shelf. She felt as if there had been something she'd noted during her feverish research during the horcrux hunt, but as it was not immediately relevant, she'd only noted it vaguely as something which might someday be useful. Hermione could not even be sure at this point that it did indeed have anything to do with their present quest. Biting her lip hesitantly, she finally reached for an older book with a mouldering green cover, a small book with a rich red cover and thin pages, and a large tome with a rich blue leather binding.

Hermione settled at her desk and began flipping through the small red book idly. The main topic dealt with identifying traces left by powerful or dark magic, and though a passing reference was made to ways to identify victims of the _Imperius_ curse, there was nothing further. She turned next to the large blue tome, which would take some time to peruse, and decided it was best saved for after lunch. The moldy green book made her wrinkle her nose, but she began anyway.

Within ten minutes, all traces of disgust at the book were gone, and she was engrossed in a section on mind control hexes and jinxes, which all seemed very familiar. There was a rising feeling of excitement which she consciously ignored in order to concentrate on the text. As she turned the page, she saw a potion plan and nearly squealed in excitement. Yes, this looked very familiar – as she skimmed, there it was. There was a potion which could be brewed that purported to strengthen the mind against invasion by another; it claimed even to break the _Imperius_ curse if prepared with an alternate means of preparing the ginger and with the addition of oil of rosemary and crushed gingko biloba. She studied the plan and was relieved to find that it could be brewed relatively quickly, as potions went. It had a twenty-four resting period after the first reduction and again following the addition of the ginger and rosemary oil and no requirement about the phase of the moon, so it could begin this afternoon, if they had sufficient of the other ingredients.

Her initial excitement was tempered by the knowledge that this might not work at all. But even having a tangible option to try was something that should cheer George up. Speaking of George, Hermione rather thought he would have been back by now, she idly reflected as she checked her watch. She stretched and pushed away from her desk and became aware for the first time of the sensation that she wasn't alone in the flat. It was an awareness that made her uneasy, though; it was quiet, but the feeling in the air was disturbed, as if she could hear another person breathing. Hermione stilled and breathed as shallowly as possible, and strained to listen, wondering if she were being silly. Then she heard the smallest creak of the floorboards, as if someone had shifted their body weight just a bit. Her skin was covered in gooseflesh, but she carefully withdrew her wand, because she felt instinctively that whoever was in the flat could not be friendly to her.

Another creak, and the sound of light shuffling, as if someone were trying to move quietly. Fred would have no need, he'd seek her out immediately. George was equally at home there, for all that his things had been moved to Angie's flat. Anyone else would be unlikely to enter their flat with no warning, or would call out immediately. Doing her best to push aside the growing fear, Hermione wiped her suddenly clammy hands on her jeans and firmly gripped her wand, assessing her options. It seemed likely that whoever was there knew she was there or suspected it, but they weren't moving. The only means of exit from this end of the flat was apparition. Hermione realized that she couldn't stay here though, because Fred or George would come home at any moment, and right into a potential trap . . .

And with that thought, Hermione knew who was there, because she remembered the Fidelius charm meant that only a limited number of people could enter the flat at all, or were even aware of the existence of the flat. She kept her wand ready, but moved calmly into the corridor, not bothering to hide her movements. He was standing still in the middle of the great room, a hand hidden in his quidditch practice robes.

"Hello, Ron," she said, keeping her voice even, and her wand ready. "What are you doing here?"

"Hermione," he said, his voice unusually flat and his face an expressionless mask.

"Is something wrong? What are you doing here?" she said, stalling to get a sense of his purpose. He hadn't moved, but he did not seem to be himself.

"You should come with me," Ron said, his voice still curiously devoid of inflection or emotion.

"Come where?" she asked nervously, eying his hidden hand.

"Away. I have something to show you. You should come with me," he said again.

"Can't just now, I'm afraid," she said with false brightness. "The twins are expecting me."

"They are gone," Ron said tonelessly. "You should come with me." He began to move towards her.

"No, Ron, I'm not going anywhere. Why are you here?" she said, her voice firm, though her hand was shaking, as she half-raised her wand.

"You are vital," Ron said. "You must come now." He continued to advance, and now his hand was moving, and she knew he would be clutching his wand. And yes, there it was, pointing directly at her. She gave it no more thought, reacting instinctively to the threat he presented.

"_Petrificus totalus_!" she shouted, whipping her wand at Ron. He immediately froze and fell forward. Hermione was unable to catch him before he hit the floor, and she winced at the crack. She moved quickly to turn him onto his back, and saw that his nose was clearly broken, and was gushing blood. His eyes continued to look blankly at her as she reached into his robes and carefully removed his wand, which had been clutched in his hand.

Hermione raised her wand again to staunch the bloodflow and heal his nose, but as she began the incantation, she realized that her hand was shaking badly, which made her realize that her entire body was trembling violently. She collapsed ungracefully to her knees besides Ron, trying to gather herself as she struggled to understand, to piece together the events of the last five minutes.

Any suspicion left that Ron was not involved in the attacks was gone now. Someone, and she didn't think it was Ron, actually, had been watching the store and saw both George and Fred leave and used that as an opportunity to use Ron in an attempt to get at Hermione. Even with the Fidelius in place, she'd been at risk because they'd stupidly walked through the shop instead of leaving from the flat. Hermione shook her head, trying to force away the thoughts of what could have been if she'd been more absorbed in her reading and not expecting one of the twins back shortly. It was difficult to shake the feeling of terror that clutched at her, but she needed to think as logically as possible.

Arthur. She needed to let Arthur and Kingsley know about what happened here, but as quietly and discreetly as was possible. Before she could decide on the best approach, she heard a clattering on the stairs, and looked up to meet her husband's eyes. His cheerful greeting died on his lips as he took in the sight before him.

"What the bloody hell happened?" he asked, his voice filled with shock and a cold fury that frightened Hermione.

"He's not himself, Fred," she said quickly, urgently. "He's under the influence or control of something. They were watching us, he said that he knew you and George were gone, and he wanted me to go with him. He said I was vital, that I had to go with him. When I refused he drew his wand, but I got him first. He needs help, I'm shaking too much to heal him."

"Bloody fucking hell," Fred growled, and it was evident from the expression of fury on his face that that was the last thing he wanted to do. Forcing her legs to obey, she stood and stepped over to him and put her hand on his chest.

"Frederick, I'm fine. A little shaken, but unharmed. Your brother is not ok. Please, you are better with healing charms. I'm asking you, please, to heal him."

Fred took a deep breath, and then another, and finally stepped around Hermione and muttered the healing incantations. The blood stopped and Ron's nose straightened with an audible crack, which made Hermione wince again. She stepped over and quietly cast a charm to cleanse his face of the blood which had dried there. Through all of it, the expression on Ron's face never changed, he just continued staring blankly ahead of him. That had the effect that Hermione's words couldn't have on Fred; his brother was not himself.

"We have to get your father," Hermione said quietly.

"Yes, right," Fred said distractedly, still staring at his little brother.

"If they are watching us, though, they know you've come back, which means that Ron is in danger," she said. "We all are."

"I'm not leaving you alone with him. It can wait until George returns," Fred said firmly, shaking himself from his stupor.

"He's petrified, without his wand. I think I'll be fine," Hermione protested. "If you prefer, I'll go."

"Absolutely not," Fred said. They stared each other down, but Hermione gave in. She had no desire to go to the Ministry is search of Arthur, and she wasn't keen to leave Fred alone either, so fighting with him over his concern was hypocritical.

"Fine," she said. "But would you try floo'ing Percy? Maybe he's in and can track your dad down more quickly. Or send and owl, even."

"Right. How long has George been gone?" Fred said, a new worry striking him.

Hermione consulted her watch. "An hour and a quarter."

"You don't think -?" Fred asked, growing more pale at the thought he couldn't voice.

"No. I think he walked and it was busy," Hermione said calmly. "I expect he'll walk in at any moment. Do you want to floo Percy, or shall I?"

"You do it. I'll get an owl ready." Fred said tersely, heading downstairs.

Hermione spared a glance for her friend, who had not moved nor changed expressions before throwing a pinch of glittering powder into her fireplace. The green flames whooshed into life and she stuck her head in the fireplace, calling out for the under-secretary to the Minister's office. When the spinning ceased, she turned her head and called out for Percy, unable to see him immediately. She was about to pull her head from the fireplace when she heard the door open and close and tried once more.

Percy quickly moved to the fireplace, peering inside with a dubious look.

"Hermione? Is everything all right?"

"Percy, Fred needs to see you quite urgently. I am terribly sorry to contact you at work -" Percy cut her off.

"I'm certain the Minister will not object, if I can have a few moments to alert him to my absence," Percy said quickly, a slightly questioning tone in his voice.

"Er, yes, that's understandable. I wouldn't want you to get into trouble. Maybe if the Minister is unavailable, you'll just let your father know?"

"I'll see which senior staff are available, of course. Let Fred know that I'll be by when I can," Percy said, standing up, and Hermione withdrew her head from the fireplace, coughing slightly as she inadvertently inhaled some ash.

Ron was where she had left him, and Hermione carefully stepped around him to go downstairs to join Fred. She heard voices in the workroom, and was relieved to see George with her husband, Fred's arm glued tightly to his brother's shoulders, bags of food resting on the floor at his feet. George looked troubled.

"I caught Percy. He will be around shortly, and it sounds as if he will report back to Kingsley," Hermione reported.

"You're certain you are ok, Hermione?" George asked with a look of concern.

"Yes, I'm fine," she assured him. "There's more though, which I haven't gotten to tell Fred yet. I found it, the potion."

"You found it?" they exclaimed simultaneously.

"Yes, though I can't guarantee it will work. And it's going to take at least three days," she warned them. "But at least we've something else to focus on. I thought, perhaps, you'd like to give it a go, George."

"Absolutely," he affirmed. "Let me see it."

"It's upstairs. I think we need to be careful though, because we are probably under surveillance, and I'm concerned for Ron. To try this, it smacks of desperation."

They reached the flat and George immediately went to check on his brother, who was still frozen in place and unresponsive. Surprising Hermione a little, George carefully cleaned the blood from his robes, and straightened them a bit. Then he turned back to Hermione.

"Right, let me see the book," he said firmly. Hermione wordlessly led him to the study, where the moldy green book was still open on her desk. George sat down and immediately began reading it over while Hermione stood in the doorway. Fred had remained in the lounge to watch Ron and intercept Percy when he arrived. George seemed wholly absorbed in the book before him, and he frowned slightly as he flipped pages to study the directions and the potions plan. Finally, he looked up.

"It's solid. Can't believe I never thought rosemary oil. I had thought of ginger, but that preparation. Bollocks, it seems so simple when it's laid out. I wouldn't have tried for such a short resting period either, but I see why they've done it the way they did. Too great a chance of curdling and becoming unusable. I think if we add lemon zest, that might help to counteract thistle, which we think is being used. The ginger might, given that it's boiled and cut into pentagons, be enough on its own to counter the monk's hood, but if I could add just a bit of St. John's Wort right at the correct moment, I'd feel better."

"Worth a go then?" she couldn't help asking.

"Definitely, it's a lot better than what I was trying to do from scratch. A smart call, love," George said, looking younger and much more relaxed than he had that morning. "Might as well try to eat while we wait. I'll start it brewing once Dad and Percy have figured this out."

"I'm not sure I could eat," Hermione said, feeling slightly nauseated by the mere thought. However, she followed George into the lounge, and sat on the arm of her husband's chair while her brother-in-law retrieved their lunches.

"What's he think, then?" Fred asked quietly.

"That it'll work, maybe with some adjustments," she answered softly. Fred only nodded; George's demeanor was enough to tell his twin the positive news.

"You certain you're ok?" he finally asked, breaking the silence that had fallen between them, and sounding better than he had.

She slipped an arm around his shoulders. "Yes. Just worried now. I think he had to have been fighting whatever his instructions were, because he didn't make a sound and didn't try to find me. I was engrossed in studying the potion, it could have been a different outcome. We were lucky."

Two things happened at that moment: George returned with the forgotten food, and the floo roared to life. Percy Weasley stepped through first, but was followed almost immediately by their father. They both stopped abruptly at the strange scene before them, Arthur briefly closing his eyes in what looked like pain.

"What happened?" Percy asked, sounding bewildered.

Hermione repeated her story, as Arthur quietly cast several spells over Ron. Seeming both sad and unsatisfied, he tucked away his wand and turned to his twin sons and his daughter-in-law.

"I think you were right to think it might be potion based. There is no trace of lingering enchantment on him, which suggests ingestion. Even the _Imperius_ curse leaves a trace if you know what you are looking for. I was concerned, but I never thought . . ." he trailed off, shaking his head. "You weren't harmed, Hermione?"

"No, just frightened. It was disconcerting to see him so utterly blank," she said with a shiver at the remembrance. "He's not changed expression at all. And I'm worried that he's in danger now, because they were watching. They can't know the location of the flat, they may've thought I was in the shop, or that he'd try here and then visit the flat. But surely they are expecting him back with me in tow." She'd begun to wring her hands quite unconsciously.

"It is a concern. You think the potion will take a few days?" Arthur asked, his voice heavy.

"Yeah, at least three, if all goes well on the first try, and much as the git irritates me, I wouldn't generally test the first iteration of an unknown potion on him," George said wryly.

"May not have a choice. We've got to get him out of commission for awhile. I wonder . . ." Arthur trailed off, looking thoughtful, then turned to Percy. "Did they ever make a determination about McClintock?"

"They think he's in the thick of it, but charges? Not yet," Percy said with a shrug.

"Maybe he can arrange for Ron to have a serious Quidditch injury? Bludger to the head that knocks him out for a couple of days? We can keep him out in St. Mungo's, under guard. I've got a healer I trust implicitly," Arthur mused aloud. Fred's eyebrows rose in surprise and appreciation.

Percy merely nodded. "I'll see to it. They just need the appearance of it, right? Ron may need to return to the pitch. Have you any polyjuice?" The last was directed at the twins.

"Yes, always keep some on hand. Useful in any number of situations and products," Fred said without missing a beat.

"Very good. We'll get everything arranged, and then move him to St. Mungo's. You lot just start on the potion. We need him to be in complete control if we are going to be able to end this," Arthur said with grim determination.

-o0o-

A/N - Onwards we go! Any guesses about what is to come? I hope you enjoy this. More on its way. Cheers.


End file.
